Queen of Coney Island
by spaghettiparty
Summary: Brittany and Rachel decide to let out a room in their apartment in New York. When a mysterious girl from the other side of the country moves in, some changes are inevitable.
1. Chapter 1

**So I ended up writing another Brittana fanfic. I****'ll post this chapter to see how you guys like it. Please leave a review so I can decide whether I finish the story or not. I hope you enjoy it!**

Brittany let out a deep sigh, in the hope of Rachel finally noticing that her patience was at an end, but, of course, Rachel was too busy to notice. Or she just didn't want to notice.

''All right, let me try another one.'' Rachel thought for a moment before she looked at the homeless man, which asked them around thirty minutes ago for a few dollars to buy weed. And they still weren't back at their apartment. ''You're gonna love this one.''

''_Aaand we got nothing to be guilty of_,'' Rachel sung, louder this time, in an attempt to convince the man, but to her disappointment he picked his mustache and shook his head, again.

''Who doesn't know _Guilty_?'' Rachel spoke in an almost annoyed voice while she raised her eyebrow at Brittany, as if she wanted her to agree with her.

Brittany thought it was best to just agree with her, since she wanted to get out of here. People were starting to look at this weird going-on and Brittany couldn't blame them. The man had simply asked them for a few dollars to buy weed, and Rachel, with her gift to change every random subject of conversation in 'Barbra Streisand', had struck again.

She swung the bag with 'healthy food', as Rachel called it, to draw her attention. ''Tacos are getting cold Rach.'' They ordered for three people, just in case their new roommate arrived early, but Brittany wondered if anyone who didn't know Rachel and her rare eating habits would dare to eat the biological, environment friendly looking food.

Rachel slowly came back to earth. ''Right.'' She tossed a few dollars towards the homeless man and gave him a pitiful glance. ''You should Google her, you don't know what you're missing out on.''

Brittany linked their arms and started walking, dragging along a still not convinced looking Rachel. She was tired after a long day of classes plus, more or less, mandatory hanging out with Rachel because she locked them out again (''Really Brittany, I ran into Andy and he really needed my help choosing a tie for his au pair's wedding. What did you wanted me to do? Let the poor boy leave with a hideous tie with pigs on it?'') In reality Rachel just had a big crush on their neighbor but Brittany didn't have the heart to tell her that he clearly was exuberant gay. It kind of surprised her Rachel herself didn't notice yet since she was surrounded by gays almost every minute of her day, but okay.

''I just can't believe he doesn't know Barbra Streisand,'' Rachel chatted cheerfully. ''I mean, who doesn't know Funny Girl? _It´s legendary_.''

''Not everybody is obsessed with her like you Rachel.''

Rachel raised her head haughtily. ''It should be part of every children's education.''

''Of course,'' Brittany muttered as they walked up the staircase to the sixth floor. This building really needed an elevator, or at least a wheelchair lift so they didn't had to lug their groceries all the way up to the top floor.

To their surprise, but also confusion their front door stood wide open, which probably meant their new roommate had arrived earlier than expected, or that their psychopathic Polish neighbor broke into their house. Brittany just hoped for the first option since the last time Marcela broke in they weren't able to sleep for five days because she destroyed their radiator which led to freezing their asses off until the mechanic could come over to fix it. Besides that, Rachel was afraid to death of Marcela, she always put on a spurt when she passed her apartment.

But their apartment was empty and just when Rachel wanted to unpack their bag, a loud noise emerged from the bathroom.

Rachel squeaked and immediately ducked away behind the kitchen unit, protecting her head with her arms by wrapping them around her face, and pointed towards the bathroom.

''_I bet it's Putin again_. It's your turn to check Britt,'' her voice shoot up.

Brittany frowned. ''I'm pretty sture Putin isn't Polish.'' She grabbed the five days old baguette from the kitchen unit to, just in case, use as a weapon since it was hard like cement and then slowly stealed towards the bathroom.

As she got closer, the noise got louder and louder, and –after a deep inhale- she swung open the door by hitting it with the baguette to find a girl on the bathroom floor, kneeling in front of a suitcase.

The Latina girl looked up with an annoyed expression on her face and rolled her eyes when she noticed Brittany.

''_Geez finally_,'' she turned off her hair dryer and made a desperate gesture towards her suitcase. ''Don't you people have a tumble dryer?''

Brittany looked at the completely soaked suitcase she was pointing at. The suitcase, including its content was flooded. She tried hard to contain her laugh, which resulted in snorting loudly, clearly to the other girl's irritation. Rachel turned up behind her. Apparently she stated that it was safe to enter the bathroom since Brittany didn't get attacked by Marcela or Putin.

''Oh my god!'' Rachel exulted by seeing the girl. Before the girl could back off Rachel had already pulled her in a tight embrace, whether the girl wanted or not. Seen the surprised but –again- annoyed look she gave Brittany, Rachel had chosen the wrong type of greeting.

''Whoa-whoa,'' the girl pulled back to fix her hair. ''You'd better not fuck up this hairdo 'cause I pawned off my mother's boots for it.''

Rachel clearly didn't notice the girl's sarcastisch tone of voice because she got lost in her usual flood of words.

''I'm Rachel Berry, which you probably already knew,'' Rachel paused for a moment to grant them a delight smile with her perfectly bleeched tooth –_seriously, who gives their daughter teeth whitening for Christmas?-_ before she continued. She put an arm around Brittany. ''And this is Brittany, also your new roommate. Oh and-,'' she grabbled in her back pocket to pull out a plasticized photo of herself and quickly provided it with her autograph, then handing it over to the stunned girl.

She took hold of the picture and just stared at it for a few moments, in the first instance too baffled to utter anything –or anything decent since the photo was hilarious, Brittany had to admit-.

''Okay wow,'' she spoke while she handed the photo back to Rachel. ''That photo is just creeping the shit out of me, you'd better keep it unless you want me to be awake every night. And I also have no _fucking _clue who you are.''

Brittany saw Rachel flinching just a little, which kind of made Brittany feel sorry for her. It wasn't her fault she couldn't restrain her word flood, yet her enthusiasm.

''I'm Rachel Berry,'' she said carrying it off. ''I'm currently playing Glinda in Wicked, on Broadway. Oh, and I also played Fanny Brice.'' The moment she mouthed 'Fanny' her eyes started sparkling and her cheeks turned red with excitement. It was only a matter of time for her to inform the girl about all the ins and outs concerning Funny Girl or Broadway.

The girl slowly shook her head. ''Nope never heard of. But just for now, I'll call you nose. Suits you better.'' She grinned at her own joke, probably mentally high-fiving herself.

Rachel gave Brittany a look which probably meant 'who the hell does she think she is? Say something Brittany' while she crossed her arms, but Brittany found the fact that – for once- somebody didn't know who she was priceless, so she wisely shut her mouth and leaned back against the door-post, enjoying the going-on.

''And who do _you_ think you are?'' Rachel said haughtily.

The girl let out a deep sigh and stood up, hysterically running her hands through her long black hair. ''I'm Santana and I need a fucking tumble dryer, ASAP.'' She tossed her semi-dry clothes back in her suitcase and started lugging it across the tiny apartment with Rachel hot on her heels.

''Well it's not your lucky day, the laundromat is closed today,'' Rachel blurted, seeming satisfied she could boycott some of Santana's plans seen she just insulted Funny Girl _and _Broadway. And her nose. _Nobody _messes with Rachel Berry's nose.

Santana snorted, not looking a tiny bit impressed or intimidated by Rachel. ''Please go cry in the corner of this room while you enjoy all the free air that your nose is absorbing the goddamn time while you leave us-,'' she nodded towards Brittany, ''with nearly enough oxygen to even care about your childish problems, let alone our own.''

Rachel seemed upset, but recovered quickly. But before she could snap something back at Santana, Brittany intervened.

''We'll figure out something for your clothes Santana,'' she quickly said. ''In the mean time you can wear something from me.''

So, a few hours later, the peace was all but restored. Brittany had given Santana the Grand Tour, including her room, the roof garden and balconey, and Rachel had calmed down by taking a therapeutic shower, which for her meant showering for about one hour long while singing the most annoying Broadway songs ever. Now they were hanging on the couch, pointlessly staring at the TV, Santana wearing one of Brittany's fluffy sweaters with a bright animal print. Brittany glanced at Santana from the corner of her eye, and she had to admit it looked sort of cute.

''What are you laughing at _Blondie_?''

_Shit. _She really noticed everything.

''Uh you know. That sweater's shape does really good things to your figure,'' Brittany muttered. ''Accentuates your strong, uh, features.'' She had blurted it without thinking and now realized she would probably get the works. But she didn't.

Santana didn't look up from the TV but sniggered. ''I know right?''

They continued watching TV in silence, although Brittany wasn't really paying attention since she wasn't really interested in programs about musicals, but Rachel seemed to enjoy it. Most of the time Brittany hogged the remote to watch programs about animals, so it was fair to Rachel.

''Okay I'm sorry,'' Santana broke the silence. ''I'm bored to death and I think I'm not the only one.'' She gave Brittany a meaningful glance, but rolled her eyes when Brittany shrugged.

''Can we please watch Tiaras and Toddlers? I'm sick of _Gay Channel_.''

Rachel sighed and dropped the remote on Santana's lap on her way to the kitchen. Santana immediately zapped to TLC and turned around so she could face Brittany.

She ducked her head to the kitchen. ''Is she always like that?''

Brittany caught herself in a split second knowing what Santana meant, and she kind of had to do with Rachel. What Santana meant was Rachel's enthusiasm about practically everything, which resulted in word floods, what characterized her. Strangers or people who didn't know her well mostly had to get used to her behavior, just like Brittany had to in the beginning of High School.

''Yeah,'' Brittany stated. She didn't see the point in beating about the bush. ''She's really nice. You just have to get used to her though,'' she added quickly. _And people have to get used to your bitchy personality too_.

Santana just nodded and went back to watching TV, leaving the object of discussion.

''So what's the deal with you anyway? Where are you from?'' Brittany couldn't contain her curiosity about the mysterious girl. They didn't' get any information about Santana before she moved in with them.

''San Franciso,'' sounded the very explicit answer.

Well, at least it clarified her relaxed attitude. And her harsh choice of words. If they'd have a jar in which they would put money every time someone cursed, Santana would've already –in the little time she spent in their apartment- raised enough money to provide ten families in Africa with necessaries for the next few weeks.

''What are you here for?''

Santana sighed and pulled away her glance from the TV. ''Are you cross-examining me or something? I'm here for business.''

''_Business_,'' Brittany spoke slowly, letting the words come down on her. What kind of business would a young woman like Santana possibly be interested in? She couldn't come up with anything except of shoes. Or maybe fashion seen Santana's excellent choice in clothes, when she wasn't wearing Brittany's sweaters of course.

''Uh-uh, that's right.'' Santana sniffed and pulled a grossed out facial expression. ''Oh my god, did nose burn her hair? 'Cause it'd be a pity if I missed that.''

As if on cue, Rachel emerged from the kitchen, desperately clamping a casserole between oven gloves, and followed by pitch-black smoke. She tossed the casserole on a coaster on the coffee table and wiped off the sweat from her face.

''I decided to make a casserole from the tacos,'' Rachel panted as if she just ran the New York City Marathon without any workout.

''Sweet,'' Brittany already grabbed a plate from the table to dig in but Santana decided to throw a spanner in the works. A spanner in Rachel's works, properly speaking.

''Nah-ah,'' Santana waved her hands. ''I'm not gonna eat that vegan crap. _I needs my meat_.''

Rachel stared at Brittany in disbelief, her ears crimson. A scenario popped up in Brittany's head in which Rachel gently told Santana to shove that meat up her ass, but of course Rachel would never say something like that. Instead of that, Rachel just waved her hand and slumped down on the couch as if she had already given up on being friendly to their new roommate.

''The Thai down the street is great,'' Rachel simply answered.

Santana shot Rachel an '_are you fucking kidding me_' look, but Rachel ignored her and leaned forward to use the buttons on their old TV to change the channel to her favorite again.

''Okay. Fine,'' Santana tossed off loosely.

She grabbed her jacket and disappeared before Brittany could point out she was still wearing the pink fluffy sweater; eventually she would notice herself. Santana actually stayed away all night and came back next morning, right after Rachel had left for rehearsal, not saying a word and immediately slip into her bed.

And that's how the first two weeks went. Every now and then Santana disappeared –most of the time after a bitchfight with Rachel or just when she was moody-, to come back in the middle of the night, or next morning. God knows what she was up to but Brittany didn't really want to know, unlike Rachel who was dying to find out (''Maybe she's a prostitute Britt!'').

But, besides the bitchfights and numerous disagreements, mostly about diner, TV channels and Rachel's outfits (''Please don't wear _that _nose, I've got to walk next to you''), the roommate-life was going just fine.

Until the night Santana had an announcement to make.

''_Blondie_, _nose_, I wanna throw a house warming to inaugurate this apartment. It'll just be like, five, or ten people.''

That was what they agreed on, five to ten people. But, based on the sound coming from the living room, there weren't ten people in their apartment. It was a hell lot more. Santana probably had every single one of San Francisco's inhabitants to visit her.

So Brittany had given up after the twentieth guest had arrived, and just went to bed since she had early classes next morning. She considered skipping classes to join the party but she liked her professor too much. Luckily for Santana, Rachel wasn't home tonight because she was on some kind of rehearsal weekend with the cast; otherwise she would've already had a treble fit because of the mess in her house.

But, after a few hours, the noise started getting less until the peace was restored again. Brittany was just about to attempt to sleep for the umpteenth time when she heard a muted voice coming from the bathroom.

''_Fuck_.''

Brittany slipped out of her bed and made her away through the havoc in their living room. A small beam of light emerged from the bathroom. Not to her surprise this time, she found Santana in the bathroom.

''Uh Santana, what are you doing?''

Santana turned around at a stretch. ''Fuck Blondie, you scared the shit out of me. Don't creep up on me.'''

''Sorry I guess.'' Brittany stared at the blanket and pillow in the bathtub. Was she about to sleep in their bathtub? ''Why are you sleeping in our bathtub?''

''I've got to disinfect my sheets before I can sleep in my bed again since I know for a fact some gross people had a _planned_ orgy in it and somebody puked all over the couch, so this,'' Santana gestured to the bathtub, ''is the only option left.''

''You can sleep in Rachel's bed?'' Brittany suggested carefully but she already knew the answer to that question.

''Hell no.''

''My bed is also pretty huge. It fits three people,'' Brittany counted. ''Oh and Tubbs,'' she added.

Brittany grinned when she thought about the moment Santana first met Lord Tubbington. He pounced her from the top of Santana's closet, which led to a grumpy Santana for days but it was worth it. Ever since that happened Santana stayed at least seven feet away from him, calling him names in Spanish, which actually sounded pretty awesome.

''If even that fatass fits into it, it's pretty huge, yeah. But no thanks,'' Santana scowled. She lay down in the bathtub and disappeared under the blanket; in Santana language it meant 'now get the fuck out', so Brittany went back to her bed.

Just when she was about to fall asleep, somebody knocked on her door.

''Yeah?''

The door opened and immediately closed again. Footsteps came closer until the blanket next to Brittany shifted up and somebody slipped into the space next to her. It felt silent again but Brittany couldn't contain the victory she felt.

''Didn't like the bathtub that much?'' she grinned at the lump next to her.

''_Shut up_,'' Santana muttered in a muted voice, but Brittany could hear her smiling into the words.

Brittany turned around to face the wall and pulled the blanket a little higher. ''Goodnight Santana.''


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Everyone thanks for reviewing, I appreciate****! Please keep them coming. So anyway: here's the second chapter, I hope you all enjoy.**

In one motion, Brittany shoved aside the mess on the coffee table and placed her printed photos row upon row. She was making a photo calendar featuring Lord Tubbington as final product for a school project.

''I mean, how does she dare leaving us in this mess?'' Rachel raced through the living room with her hands on her hips. She stopped at a picture frame that stood on a shelf and glanced at the photo of three smiling girls.

''Look at this,'' she grabbed the frame and pulled a disgusted face, ''there's a _thong_ on it Brittany. It's draped in a _thong_.''

Brittany looked up at Rachel, who was holding the frame that was draped in a thong. Millions of ideas popped up in her head. She could make a collage of the havoc in their apartment. That was actually a pretty good idea.

''Can you give that? I'd like to make a photo of it.''

''Britt-any,'' Rachel sighed while she hurried back to the spot behind the window she'd stood for the past thirty minutes. ''She can't just leave us in this mess. I found a _penguin _on the roof garden Britt. How did they even get a penguin?''

''Then clean it,'' Brittany suggested, not looking away from her photos. Her idea looked better when she came up with it while she was drunk. Her photos also looked better when she made them, probably because, at that time, she was also drunk.

Rachel shook her head. ''No. It's her mess so she has to clean it.''

''Then stop complaining Rachel,'' Brittany was tired of her. If she wouldn't clean it, the mess would stay because Brittany didn't mind it, the mess gave her inspiration. And since Santana hadn't been in the apartment for two days right now, it certainly didn't look like she was going to be the one to clean it.

When Brittany woke up the morning after the party, Santana was already gone, as expected. She was only wondering why she was always gone since she wasn't studying or had a job.

''Oh my god!'' her thoughts got interrupted by a loud shriek. Rachel was hanging out of the window with her complete upper body.

''Quick! Come here!'' Rachel exulted with excitement.

''What is it?''

Rachel turned around, the biggest grin ever on her face. Brittany swore she'd never seen her this excited before. Well, maybe she did when Rachel found out she got the leading role in Funny Girl, but this was a close second.

''She. Is. Kissing. A. Girl,'' Rachel breathed loudly, then peaking out the window again.

''Who? Marcela?'' Brittany frowned. She couldn't make head or tail of it.

''No, _Santana_. Right in front of the door.''

''Oh,'' Brittany's excitement decreased. It would've been cool if Marcela turned out to be a lesbian. A Polish one, she could ask Marcela if she could make a collage of her. 'A day in the life of a Polish lesbian'. It sounded better than making a photo calendar featuring your fat cat that was less photogenetic than expected.

Rachel shut the window and skipped over to the couch. ''She's coming!''

''God you're such a sensation seeker,'' Brittany shook her head. ''It's the twenty-first century, probably half of the world's population is gay. In some countries I could've already been married to a donkey.''

But, when Brittany thought about it, it would be pretty awesome if Santana turned out to be gay. She would make one hot lesbian. It'd be a great loss for the straight world though, not that she cared about that anyway.

Rachel sat down on the crack in between the two parts of the couch –somehow Santana managed to tear apart the couch on her housewarming-, quickly grabbed a screenplay off the ground and pretended like she was reading it.

Only a few seconds later Santana entered the living room after a dull bang and with a loud ''Holla, bitches!''

''Oh shit.'' Santana glanced around the room, lingering her glance on the picture frame that stood on the coffee table in front of Brittany, pulling a disgusted facial expression. ''Yup, certainly looks less bad in dawn.''

Brittany nodded, agreeing. ''Sure does.''

Santana swung her bag over the armrest and slumped down on their new fauteuil. Well not _new _new, actually because Rachel bought it from a stroller down the street, but okay.

''Where have you been?'' Rachel narrowed her eyes at Santana. Seen her feet that tapped the ground repeatedly, she was very excited but Brittany just hoped she wouldn't piss Santana off by asking weird questions, so she warily nudged Rachel's foot as a warning.

''Where haven't I been?'' Santana shot back as a wisecracking knowing-it-all teenager.

''_Did you already meet new people_?''

Brittany couldn't believe how determined Rachel was. She didn't even brought up the mess in their apartment, and ignoring that probably must be a big deal to Rachel.

Santana crossed her legs and titled her head a little, like Dr. Phil would do. ''_What are you aiming at Berry_?''

''Nothing, I'm just being curious.''

''Yes I have met people.'' Santana stood up and made her way to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of wine before she leaned on the kitchen unit with her elbows. ''Speaking about new people, _Polish beauty_ from the block is searching for you.''

''Marcela!'' Brittany patted Rachel's –who had turned white- arm with excitement. ''Aw come on Rach,'' she added when Rachel firmly shook her head, ''you'll love her baklava.''

''_Baklava is not Polish_,'' Santana snorted.

''_Are you gay_?''

Brittany's mouth dropped when Rachel all of the sudden changed the subject drastically. If she were Rachel she would've chosen a more subtle approach. She turned her head to see Santana's response, who just then, by their curious glances seemed to realize the question was meant for her.

''Uh-hu,'' Santana confirmed Rachel's suspicions without any doubt. ''And_ no_, I'm not interested nose,'' she slumped back on the fauteuil and turned on the TV with her toe by pressing the button with it, ''although I have to admit you've got a very nice ass.''

Rachel straightened and proudly glanced around. Apparently she completely forgot about the mess and the sermon she wanted to give Santana.''Well, funny of you to notice because I stick to a very strict diet. On Mondays I always eat whole-wheat pasta, on Tuesdays fish with exception of tuna, herring and freshwater perches, and on Wednesdays…''

''So,'' Brittany interrupted Rachel's interesting diet out of curiosity, ''was that your girlfriend?''

''Sweet Jesus, have you been eavesdropping? Do you guard the street twenty-four seven with bird watching binoculars?''

Brittany glanced at Rachel, who gave her a puzzled, yet slightly guilty look.

''No she is not,'' Santana continued. ''She's just… uh, she is _she_? God, let's drop this topic please.''

They watched TV in silence for a considerable amount of time. The X Factor it was. Brittany decided it was best if she just went for a mixture between singing and juicy reality TV to keep both Rachel and Santana satisfied. And they get to make fun of people's auditions, which was also a huge advantage.

''You know, I'm still kind of mad though,'' Rachel muttered after a while.

''Why? I'll buy a new couch,'' Santana shrugged, not looking up from the TV.

''You can't replace this one,'' Rachel patted on the empty space next to her. Brittany realized where she was heading and nudged Rachel's tummy with her foot.

''_Not now_,'' Brittany hissed indistinctly so Santana wouldn't hear.

''In fact I can,'' Santana pointed at the TV, ''oh God look at that, that's fucking awesome.''

''_A penguin has been stolen from the Central Park Zoo. The animal was stolen from its basin around half past one last Friday night_...''

All three of them were staring focused at the TV, which was showing security camera footage of two people helping someone climbing over a fence. Based on the way they wavered around the screen, they weren't anything near sober.

''_...The thief is still fugitive. If you've got any information concerning the penguin thief, you're requested to contact the police_.''

Rachel crossed her arms as the news item ended and shot an insisting glance at Santana, who slowly turned her head at them as, seen her facial expression, realization dawned on her.

''…_I think I can explain_?''

/

Brittany lashed out her arm and firmly beat her printer because it refused to print, again. Her assignment was almost due and she didn't prosper. She ran out of paper _and _ink and it was Sunday so she couldn't go to the store. Also, she took refuge in her own room since Rachel and Santana were in the living room, loudly in discussion about the use of the refrigerator.

Apparently Santana had put notes on the food –mainly junk food but Santana considered it as 'the only normal food in the house'- she bought to demarcate her territory. They said things like '_Buy your own shit'_, '_Back off_', '_NO_', and '_Don't you even think about it_'. Not that bad, Brittany thought, but Rachel kind of loosed her temper when she found out the note on Santana's Diet Coke. Seen the scratching on the note, Santana changed her mind and now the note said '_You know what Berry? You can actually take this one'_.

The voices in the living room started to go back to normal, and just when Brittany had finally got her printer to print at least one of her photos, her door slammed open. Santana gently closed the door, making least noise as possible and rushed over to Brittany.

''_You gotta help me Blondie_.''

''_Why are you whispering_?'' Brittany also whispered.

''We were just in the living room and Rachel lost her shit and I don't know if she's rehearsing for one of her _stupid_-,'' Santana rolled her eyes at Brittany who had crossed her arms, ''if she's rehearsing or if it's real.''

''Ask her,'' Brittany sighed while she continued editing her photos.

''Uh no,'' Santana started to get impatient. ''I can't handle other people's emotions. I can barely even handle my own. And besides that, she's crazy. I mean, have you even read Us Weekly? _She attacked the paparazzi_.''

''I-,'' Brittany scowled at Santana. ''You said you didn't know her before you moved in.''

Santana shrugged. ''Of course I know her, it was just funny to fuck with her.''

Brittany glanced at the door Rachel was behind. In all probability Rachel was indeed acting, which was very confusing to Brittany. It already happened so many times that Rachel, out of the blue, started acting without informing Brittany. She probably tried her strategy on Santana as well, but Brittany decided to take a look at it, and stood up. Her assignment would have to wait. Again.

''Oh dear God, thanks,'' Santana was hot on her heels.

They found Rachel in the living room, sitting on the broken couch, knees drawn to her chin and her arms wrapped around herself, slowly rocking back and forth. Brittany kneeled down in front of the couch, Santana keeping a safe distance between them, probably because she didn't want to get infected by Rachel's feelings.

Brittany softly rubbed Rachel's shaking leg. ''What's wrong Rach?''

Noticing she got the attention, Rachel threw out a hysterical wine and tightened the grip on her legs. At least she knew how to act hysterical.

''_Y-Yen-Yen-Yen-Yentl_,'' she managed to howl.

''_Yentl?_'' Santana echoed, only in a jeering tone of voice.

''What about Yentl?'' Brittany was just relieved it was only Yentl and not some role Rachel didn't get because that's with no doubt the worst thing that could happen to Rachel. Yentl being a solid second.

''H-he-he passed a-away,'' Rachel muttered while she buried her face deeper in her arms.

Okay. That was pretty bad for Rachel standards. But Yentl dying didn't surprise Brittany for a second. That dog was old as a hill.

''Okay hold up. Who is _Yentl_?'' Santana interrupted, subtle and compassionate as ever.

''Her dog.''

Rachel raised her head, narrowing her wet eyes. ''_My labradoodle_.''

''Sorry, _her labradoodle_,'' Brittany repeated.

''I'm going to bed,'' Rachel stood up with visible –or acted, Brittany couldn't see- effort and shuffled towards her room.

''Come on Berry,'' Santana attempted to solace her. ''Didn't see you as a quitter.''

As much as that wasn't a good attempt to comfort someone, Brittany appreciated the fact that she as least tried. It proved that Santana wasn't as heartless as she looked, or as she wanted to seem.

''Yeah come on,'' Brittany joined Santana. ''Stay here. We can eat vegetarian tacos.''

''Or watch lame juicy musicals _and _eat nasty vegan crap,'' Santana added.

''Or play Halli Galli,'' Brittany tried to persuade her. She knew Rachel would love to play Halli Galli because she was queen at it, and if she was good at something, she immediately liked it.

''I'm sorry girls,'' Rachel mumbled without looking back. ''As much as I appreciate your effort, I'm not in the mood.''

Brittany knew she had to do it. It was her ultimate weapon and Rachel would have to fall for it because she never, ever refused. If she wouldn't fall for it, yeah, something was seriously wrong with her and Brittany would call a doctor.

''_We could play SingStar_,'' Brittany suggested casually.

Rachel stopped walking and slowly turned around. Brittany glanced at Santana swiftly, who mouthed 'oh hell no' very explicitly but Brittany didn't care. Santana would have to suck it up, just like she would.

''You would do that for me?'' Rachel's eyes started sparkling.

''Hell, I wouldn't,'' Santana responded quickly.

''Yep Rach, _we _totally would,'' Brittany put the emphasis on _we _and granted Santana her sweetest smile.

This trump luckily always worked on Rachel. She would never turn down an opportunity to sing, to let other people enjoy her talent.

So they played SingStar, or, Rachel played SingStar but she didn't seem to care about Santana's and Brittany's passive attitude. Seven Barbra Streisand songs, nine Céline Dion songs, five Whitney Houston songs and four bottles of wine later Rachel still wasn't done singing and to Brittany's amusement Rachel's goal now was to get Santana to sing a song.

''Ohh come on,'' Rachel slumped down on Santana's lap and pouted. Her cheeks were red from the alcohol. ''Sing-sing a s-song with me.''

''Nah-ah,'' Santana jabbered while she pushed Rachel off her lap and rested her feet on the coffee table.

''Yeah, come on,'' Brittany backed up Rachel in a teasing tone of voice. ''You can't be worse than Tubbs.'' She turned around to face Lord Tubbington. ''I'm sorry but it's true,'' she added shrugging.

''L-listen,'' Rachel put her arms around Santana's neck again. ''I'll stop h-hogging your Cheetos if you sing a-a song.''

''Okay stop breathing in my neck like a psychopath, _nose_. It's creepy and gross,'' Santana pulled back and unwrapped Rachel's arms. ''And buy your own shitty food.''

Brittany sighed, stood up and grabbed Santana's arm. If Rachel wanted them to sing a song, they'll sing her a goddamn song. She handed an annoyed Santana the microphone and prepared for the song. As soon as the title popped up the TV, Rachel started clapping her hands enthusiastically like a little girl.

''This is my-my favorite song! Oh my G-God, I loooove The Lion King!''

Santana turned out to be a very good singer, although she didn't want to hear it or talk about it so Brittany wisely shut her mouth. They spent the rest of the night singing Lion King songs and drinking wine, and Santana could've protested all that she wanted but Brittany was sure the smile on her face was not just only the alcohol doing its thing.

/

''What are you doing here?''

Brittany looked up to see a puzzled Santana leaning out of the window. She was sitting on the fire escape ladder since it was too hot to sit inside and she liked the traffic and watching people. She was always curious to where they were heading or where they were coming from, but she unlearned to just ask strangers since they always started yelling at her or told her they hoped she would get some weird kind of medieval disease.

''Trying to work on a school assignment,'' Brittany pointed at her laptop.

''Oh,'' Santana nodded. ''You're studying photography, right?''

Brittany nodded enthusiastically. She could talk for hours when it came down to photography. ''Wanna see some of my photos?''

''I'm sorry but I don't really have time right now, I just wanted to give you this,'' Santana leaned a little closer and reached out to Brittany. ''You know, to cure the hangover,'' she added slightly insecure when she handed Brittany a smoothie.

''Aw thanks,'' Brittany restrained her astonishment.

''No problem. Why are you here anyway? The weather is great, shouldn't you be in Central Park, feeding ducks or something?''

''Uh no.'' Brittany wasn't sure if Santana was being sarcastic or not. ''Rachel and I actually wanted to go act like tourists today, you know, rent a bike and take stupid pictures at the Empire State Building or pretend to be British or Australian, but she canceled because she ran into some fellow castmate she has a crush on… I think.''

''Gross,'' Santana replied while she lifted up her bag again. ''Anyway, I really gotta go. Have a nice day doing… uh, nothing.''

''Thanks,'' Brittany smiled. ''And thanks again for the smoothie. I appreciate.''

Santana lowered her head quickly in acknowledgement before she turned around and disappeared, leaving Brittany alone in the apartment. Brittany continued cropping the photos in her collage, and in the meantime taking photos from people down the street. Santana was right; she should be at Central Park or at the harbor or something like that right now, it wasn't weather to be busy with school assignments in your cramped apartment.

''_Britt_.''

Brittany lifted up her head, surprised to see Santana as the person that just used her familiar nickname since she now was used to 'Blondie'.

Santana grinned and reached out her hand through the window for Brittany to grab it. ''So you're gonna come with me or would you rather stay in this stinky joint all day?''


	3. Chapter 3

**Edit: I'm sorry for uploading this chapter again. I'm having some troubles with Word but in all probability they're solved now. Enjoy and I'd like to hear what you think about this chapter!**

It was funny to see how quick Santana adjusted herself in the crowded –filled with sweaty people because it was ridiculously hot- centre of the city. She got a cab by snapping her fingers at the driver within a minute while it took Brittany at least five minutes her first weeks in New York. After they had arrived, Santana also managed to pay fifteen dollars instead of twenty-five (''_Listen Aladin, it's gon' be fifteen or nothing, your choice_.'' The Indian cab driver had glanced at them through his rear-view window and mumbled something that didn't sound very nice in Hindi.) Though Brittany still didn't know if the cab driver thought she was hot or just intimidating.

The huge amount of strollers and junkies also didn't seem to bother Santana (Brittany remembered Rachel coming home the first night, crying because she had been grossly offended by multiple strollers). She either insulted them before they could offend her, or snapped something way worse at them back. Either way, Brittany didn't have to worry about Santana not being safe in the city, that was for sure.

Right now they were heading upstairs in an old warehouse in Brooklyn. Santana had told her she needed to do something first and that Brittany could stay downstairs if she wanted to, but she was way too curious, because what on earth did Santana needed to do in _here_?

They reached the sixth floor when Santana stopped and pounded on the door of apartment 303. After some rumbling on the other side of the door, the door sway open, revealing a widely grinning boy with a mohawk.

''_Get that grin off your face before I needs to do it for you_,'' Santana rolled her eyes and ducked under his arm –which he had planted at the door-post-, entering his corridor.

Brittany introduced herself with a 'Hi I'm Brittany' before she followed the boy, who appeared to be Puck, towards the living room.

''Oh come on sis, it was fun,'' he winked at Brittany, apparently knowing what Brittany's roommate was talking about. He opened a beer on the edge of a beer crate and after that, slumped down on a kitchen chair.

His home was a typical youth home; one wall was completely covered in piled beer crates, the dishes stood on the kitchen unit, posters from the Playboy were hanging on the living room door and Brittany couldn't spot a single part of the table since it was covered in pizza boxes and other food.

''_Stealing a penguin from the zoo_?'' Santana huffed. ''We were on _National_ news. Good for you your pretty face wasn't in front of the camera.''

Puck simply shrugged. ''Where's the penguin now?''

''With me,'' Brittany responded. ''_Oh and with Rachel_,'' she added. They had claimed the penguin as their new pet since Rachel felt alone because Yentl died and nobody could know they were the penguin thiefs –actually Santana sort of was- until they figured out how to fix this. Lord Tubbington needed company anyway so why not? Whiskey –the penguin's new name- had become best friends with Tubbs in no time.

''So he's in good hands,'' Puck stated.

''_No_,'' Santana said through gritted teeth, ''he's not. They are trying to teach him to tap dance like in Happy Feet. I mean, who the hell thinks a penguin can tap dance?''

Brittany couldn't help but pout a little. It seemed like an awesome idea to her, and besides that, Rachel would have a dancing partner besides her so she didn't have to put in an appearance every time.

''Fair point,'' Puck nodded.

''It is,'' Santana continued. ''Now get your ass over to my apartment to get that animal and bring it back to the zoo before Rachel teaches it how to sing.'' She firmly walked away until she realized, when she reached the door, that Brittany was still standing in the living room.

''_Brittany_!''

''Oh right,'' Brittany mumbled. ''I thought we were staying.''

They left the apartment as soon as they came to pursue their way. Apparently Santana had something else in her mind's eye for today because they entered the D Train, in another direction than Manhattan. It was summer, which meant New York was full of tourist and so was the subway, but Brittany noticed Santana was also striking calm about taking the subway since she just lived in New York for a few weeks.

''What are we going to do anyway Santana?'' Brittany drained out the other excited voices in the train.

Santana's typical mysterious grin creeped up on her face. She shrugged and patted the crammed bag she was already dragging along all day. ''Guess you'll find out.''

Brittany sighed. She hated surprises. Well, surprises she didn't know anything about and this was one of them.

They got off the train at the end station and joined mass of people that all seemed to go into the same direction. It felt like they were walking a crusade and the warmth contributed a lot to that feeling, but the fact that, in the distance a merry-go-round, a Ferris wheel and a roller coaster popped up, destroyed the image in Brittany's head.

''Are we going to Coney Island?'' Brittany guessed.

Santana smiled. ''Score.''

Brittany tried not to show how excited she was; she loved Coney Island. Since she moved in with Rachel a year ago they had already been here so many times, even so many times that Rachel refused to go with her anymore but now it was okay, now she had Santana to go with her.

''So what are we going to do first?'' Brittany clapped her hands with excitement.

''Well, first I'm totally going to beat your cute little white ass at fishing ducks,'' Santana rolled her eyes, grabbing a fishing rod and handing Brittany one.

''Challenge accepted.'' Brittany leaned over the railing and focused. She managed to catch fourteen ducks within a minute; impossible for Santana to beat, but she proved the opposite by catching eighteen ducks.

''Told you so,'' Santana grinned haughtily, not even endeavoring to cover up her satisfaction. She pointed at a little duck suit. ''Let's exchange our points for that, it'll suit Whiskey just fine.''

''Hmm.''

After a long discussion and bribing the owner of the stall –Brittany wanted the crocodile suit and Santana the duck-, they chose the hotdog suit and went in the Ferris wheel. After that, they went for a contest of King Of The Hammer. What Santana didn't know was that Brittany was queen at this game at High School. They had an annual carnival and there was always a King Of The Hammer.

Brittany stepped back, licked her lips –to add a little more drama-, and lifted the hammer above her head. When she got Santana's full attention, she swung down the hammer, putting a little more strength to it right before it hit the platform. The hammer hit the platform and the meter stated a score of 930.

Santana nodded her head, not looking very impressed. ''Good job Blondie, not bad. Now it's my turn.'' She grabbed the hammer, stepped back and also hit the platform. Her face expression changed to annoyed when she found out that her score was only 750. She tried again but couldn't get higher than a meager 810, to Brittany's satisfaction.

''Okay, okay,'' Santana rolled her eyes at Brittany, who had crossed her arms with a satisfied grin. ''You're better than me at this game, _for now_,'' she added quickly.

''Uh-hu,'' Brittany grinned. ''_For now_.'' Santana would never get a higher score than hers, but okay. Arguing with Santana was pointless since she would a) probably get mad, or b) get mad, so Brittany wisely shut her mouth and bought her a hotdog instead.

''Oh Gawd,'' Santana sputtered with her mouth full of food, ''this is like heaven. Much better than the crap Berry is feeding us.'' She already reached her fifth hotdog but it seemed unimaginable to Brittany for Santana to stuff another hotdog in her perfectly skinny body.

Brittany snorted. ''Like you're tasting any of it. You're pouring half a bottle of sauce over her food to offset the taste.''

''Yeah whatever,'' Santana shrugged while she stood up. ''I'm gonna get another one because I need to live on this for the next few days, you want one too?''

Apparently Brittany was wrong but she just nodded as Santana walked away. It started getting less crowded on the pier because it was around dinner time. Normal people would go home to have dinner, but they were stuffing themselves with hotdogs. She hoped Rachel wouldn't be home preparing dinner. Brittany was just about to call Rachel to ask about dinner and how her date went when Santana came back.

''Do you happen to need a bike?'' Santana sat down on the fence next to Brittany and handed her another hotdog, ''a Polish junkie just offered me a free bike if I'd flash my boobs. Maybe we should try to set him up with Marcela.''

''Nah thanks,'' Brittany shook her head. ''And by the way, when are you going to tell me what's in that bag you've been carrying all day? I hope it's a secret stash of your food.''

Santana smiled and shook her head, not noticing her unions falling off her hotdog. ''Nope I'm sorry. It's my wetsuit.''

''_Wetsuit_?'' Brittany scowled.

Santana nodded her head. ''I actually was going to surf today.''

''Surf?'' Brittany couldn't suppress the curiosity in her voice.

''Yeah _surf_. Surfing like, standing on a board while you surf the ocean, _surf_,'' Santana spoke sarcastically.

''Where? It's way too crowed in the water to surf here.''

Santana turned around and leaned against the fence, pointing in the distance. ''Long Island. The waves in San Francisco were much better, but okay. Puck and Finn say it's the best spot in here.''

Brittany also turned around, facing the sea. ''Who's Finn?''

''Uh, Puck's best friend, they live together in that hovel we just went to. Well, most of the time when we go to Long Island Puck and me are surfing and he's on the beach showing off his manboobs, preparing a barbecue or attempting to flirt with girls, but sometimes we get him in the water.''

Brittany could imagine how different New York must have been for Santana. New York is big, crowded and the people are always in a hurry and mean. At least Santana could put up with the last one, so that's one less thing for her to care about but it must've been hard to adjust since she was used to a more relaxed kind of lifestyle.

''Maybe we can go surfing sometime,'' Brittany suggested while she stared at the calm waves that quietly passed them.

''_Maybe_.''

They continued staring at the sea for a little time. The sea had some kind of calmness which affected Brittany. In a good way though. She should go to the beach more often since they'd better enjoy the good weather.

''Here,'' Brittany handed over the rest of her hotdog to Santana and took off her jacket.

Santana took the hotdog, curiously glancing at Brittany that had already climbed up the fence.

''_What the fuck are you doing_?''

''Going for a refresh,'' Brittany put off against the fence and jumped down the pier, the waves coming closer quickly. She glanced at Santana, who was hanging over the fence with an expression of disbelief on her face, before the waves broke her fall. She took a ducking when she realized the water wasn't that warm as she thought it would be.

Two eyes stared at her from above. Santana shook her head and smiled. ''_Moron_.''

''Come on!'' Brittany beckoned her, ''the water is great.''

Santana shook her head. ''Nah it's like thirty feet high. I'll protect my bag from the Pole.''

Brittany leaned back and let her body float on the water. Her clothes were completely but okay. She didn't really care.

''Pussy!'' she just shouted, knowing that was all she needed to say to get Santana in the water. And of course, she was right.

''Okay, 'kay, hold up. What did you just call me?'' Santana narrowed her eyes at her from above the pier.

''_Pus-sey_.''

''Okay screw this, I'm coming,'' Santana quickly stuffed the last pieces of Brittany's hotdog in her mouth and jumped –after carefully taking off her probably pretty expensive leather boots- down without any doubt.

Brittany smirked as Santana hit the water. She was so easy to chafe.

Santana gasped for breath and spit out a huge amount of water when her head appeared between the waves. It looked cute.

''Now what did you call me?'' she grinned.

''Me? I don't know what you're talking about,'' Brittany teased her.

Santana rolled her eyes and splattered water in her direction. ''Let's get out of the water, I can't feel my boobs no more.''

Luckily for them, Santana brought a towel, so now they were sitting –butts pressed tightly against each others' since the towel was pretty tiny- on the pier, under the towel, staring at all of the lights coming from the fair –and the city in the background- and listening to faded voices that came with the wind.

''Thanks for today,'' Brittany mumbled.

Santana didn't look at her but kept staring in the distance. ''Yeah whatever.''

Brittany smiled. Normally somebody would've been offended by such a statement but Brittany knew that, in Santana's words, it meant something like 'no problem', so she was content with it.

/

''Oh. My. God,'' Rachel exulted when Brittany and Santana entered the apartment that evening as if they had been in that same room the entire evening and she picked up her sentence where she left it, ''you guys _need _to help me, I-,'' her voice trailed off when she noticed them better.

''_Why are you all wet_?''

''Very local downpour,'' Santana jibed while she took off her shoes and tossed them away, ''apparently it didn't reach _loser town_, so, _yaaay for you_.''

''We've been swimming,'' Brittany explained.

''Oh,'' Rachel clearly hoped for something more sensational. ''Anyway, as you both know, I had a date today…-''

Both Brittany and Santana interrupted her at the same moment.

''_Gross_.''

''I wanted to call you about that!''

Rachel paused, looking satisfied with having both of their fully attention, and sat down on their new, not split in two halves, couch, crossing her legs.

''As I was saying I had a date which was _very _romantic of course and he was _very _gentle, thanks for asking, but now I invited him for my upcoming opening night _but _I don't know what to wear.''

Brittany glanced at Santana, whose jaw had dropped. She had probably came up with so many insults she didn't know where to begin, so Brittany decided to take the floor before anyone could get hurt.

''Which opening night?''

''Brittany!'' Rachel reproved her, ''_Marry Poppins_!''

''Oh right, I knew that,'' Brittany shot Santana a glance, asking her for back-up.

Santana seemed to understand her and came a little closer. ''Well, I think we're all agree on the fact that you shouldn't be wearing that lilac dress you wore last week because _that _makes you look like Fiona from Shrek.''

Brittany and Rachel both gawked at her.

''Or you should,'' Santana quickly corrected herself, ''but then minus the bead because that's the worst necklace I've ever seen. _You know what_?'' she added when Brittany gave her the same glance as before, ''I'm pretty sure Brittany and I can help you pick a dress, so don't stress your ass over that yet.''

Brittany nodded, agreeing. ''Yes! We'll help you pick a dress and do your make-up. Now, tell about him,'' she wiggled her eyebrows.

Rachel moved to the edge of the couch, her eyes all sparkling. ''I thought you'd never ask. So he's _very _handsome and tall. Oh did I already mention he's also an excellent singer and he lives only a few blocks away?''

''Sounds good Rach,'' Brittany nodded, ''but I miss a crucial part about the opening night.''

Rachel frowned. ''What? Oh! Wait!'' She emerged to the kitchen and grabbled around in her coat pocket before she skipped back.

''Guess who arranged tickets for her favorite roommates?'' She waved two golden tickets –Brittany swore they could've been Willy Wonka's Golden Tickets- in front of Brittany's and Santana's faces.

Brittan clapped her hands. It could only mean one thing: seeing her friends again. Rachel always invites their friends from High School at every opening night.

''Geez,'' Santana rolled her eyes. ''Could it be any more gay?''

Rachel scowled at Santana. ''_You're gay_.''

''I'm allowed to make jokes about it Berry. I play for the team.''

''Oh, right,'' Rachel shut down her brown eyes, ''but will you come? For me?''

Santana glanced from Rachel's brown Bambi eyes to Brittany's bright questioning glare. She sighed. ''All right _but_,'' she put up her hands when Rachel pulled her in a tight hug full of joy, ''can I take somebody?''

Rachel pulled back and straightened her headband. ''Yes, yes. Of course you can.''

Santana sarcastically clapped her hands as Rachel did before, probably seeing another chance to jibe. ''Nice. Then Brittany and me finally have a chance to judge your taste in boys, 'cause I was already worried seen your taste in clothes.''

''_Santana_,'' Brittany started and Rachel said both at the same time.

''I know, I know,'' Santana sighed, ''I'll stop. I made my jokes. It was just such an easy point.''

''It kind of was,'' Rachel nodded. ''Oh, and by the way, a random boy came by today for Whiskey. I just gave it to him because he said you know him.''

''That was Puck, it's cool, he'll take care of it.''

''Buuuttt in the meantime, I found us another pet,'' Rachel stood up and opened her bedroom door. As soon as she opened the door, a dachshund emerged from her room. He gleefully skipped over to the kitchen, sniffing on everything on his way. The animal was black with a brown snout and belly.

He skipped over to Brittany, happily wagging its tail back and forth. Brittany leaned over and let the animal sniff her hand.

''_Brittany, Santana, meet Hotdog_,'' Rachel exulted as if she was hosting a TV show.

Brittany glanced at Santana to fathom her thoughts. Seen her face, they weren't really positive.

''_Oh hell no_,'' was Santana's only reaction to the new animal in their house. When nobody reacted because they were too busy petting the dog, Santana stood up and went to her room. With one last desperate '_I'm so done here'_, she disappeared into her bedroom.


	4. Chapter 4

''No. _No, no no Britt. You can't wear that_.''

Oh, how Brittany had missed his sassy behavior.

Kurt crossed his arms and leaned back on the couch, nervously glancing around if anybody had spotted them, which was impossible since it was almost closing time in Britttany's favorite bar and all the customers already went home or to the next bar. Because oh my God, imagine the things that could happen if a stranger spotted him in a city he didn't even live in, with Brittany in her 'just back from class rags'.

Brittany smiled and leaned forward to pull the over-the-top styled young man in a tight embrace. ''Nice to see you too, Kurt.''

He answered her hug, but only put one arm around Brittany to make sure his hair, that was greased every square inch, was safe by protecting it with one hand. He pulled back and let a disapproving glance run over her body while he shook his head.

''Oh Brittany, I'm glad I'm here to provide you with styling advice. Why didn't you call me earlier? _This is an emergency_.''

''Don't mind him,'' another tall, broad man with straight blond hair, also wearing a suit, stood up with a friendly grin on his face, ''he's letting off steam on all of us. _Blaine hasn't arrived yet_,'' he explained when Brittany gave him a puzzled look.

''That explains quite a lot,'' Brittany nodded before she hugged Sam and after that Artie.

Kurt shot an irritated glance at his expensive vintage watch which he had matched perfectly with his burgundy suit and black tie. ''He texted me he was delayed for thirty minutes but that's an hour ago. I should've just picked him up myself.''

Brittany ordered a round and patted his arm supportively. ''Glad to see you're still your hysterical self.''

Kurt brushed aside her comment with his hands. ''So tell me, what's with the _hobo-chic _look?''

Brittany briefly gazed at her pants. There were holes and rips on her knees and here and there the denim was partly dyed. Also, her hair was tied together in a messy bun and her horn rimmed spectacles balanced on the tip of her nose. She had kind of let herself go during painting classes today, but it was one of her favorite classes.

''Classes.'' She slipped into the tiny but cozy booth and gently draped the garment bag she had carried along with her all day over the elbow rest. The bag's content was a cream-colored backless cocktail dress she and Rachel had chosen on a day of shopping. She found matching silver heels and a pair of cute earrings so she was good to go. She also stopped Rachel from buying another lilac dress, eventually ending up buying a dark blue dress instead that would draw all the attention to her when walking the red carpet, if her emphatic presence wouldn't do.

They ordered another few rounds of martini and within a considerable amount of time Brittany started to feel a little tipsy since she didn't eat much during the day. When Blaine finally arrived (Kurt was still so pissed at Blaine he didn't even get to give him a peck on the cheek. ''Don't you dare ruining my face, I just had a facial.''), in a classic tuxedo and his distinctive bowtie, which he had changed for a more chic one seen the occasion, the group was complete.

''Okay I take back everything I said before,'' Kurt spoke surprised when Brittany got back from changing her clothes in the toilet, ''I'll never doubt your fashion instinct again.''

''Sweet,'' Brittany nodded.

''Speaking about fashion instincts,'' Artie interrupted them, ''where's Rachel?''

''I don't see in what way you see a connection between Rachel and fashion,'' Kurt taunted. His bitchy alter ego always took over after consuming alcohol and Blaine seemed to notice because he scooted a little closer and placed his hand on Kurt's thigh as if he was trying to calm him down.

Brittany ignored Kurt's rant. ''We're meeting Rachel at the red carpet because she's with her date right now and she said something about needing to be alone before the show to connect with her inner self or something like that. Oh, and Santana is with friends so we're also meeting her there.''

''_Date_?'' Kurt and Blaine spoke in unison, both at the same surprised tone of voice while Artie and Sam appeared to only hear the part in which Brittany mentioned the name of their new –very hot- female roommate.

''Who's Santana?'' Sam hopefully wiggled his eyebrow and nudged Artie in his stomach.

''She's our new roommate. _But don't count on it_,'' Brittany added quickly when Sam's and Artie's faces brightened. ''_She's gay_.''

''Oh God,'' Kurt exclaimed dramatically, ''how did that go? She must've been like a new toy to Rachel since she's gay. _No seriously_,'' he added when Blaine gave him a puzzled look, ''it's like she's collecting different types of friends. Asians. Black people. Closeted gays. _Normal gays_.''

''_Kurt, that's racist_,'' Blaine corrected him, doing this typical thing of tilting his head just a little at Kurt, the corners of his mouth slightly lifting up into an admiring, loving smile. Brittany always liked when he did that because it was cute. Like really, _really _cute, especially since nobody but Brittany seemed to notice the little going-on between Blaine and Kurt.

''It was… interesting,'' was the only way Brittany could properly describe Santana's first few weeks in their apartment. ''She kind of has a very strong personality I guess.''

Sam was still grinning like an idiot. ''I'm curious.''

After another round of martini and –to the bartender's irritation- Artie and Blaine hysterically performing 'Bad Boys' on the karaoke set, they lifted a twaddling Kurt into the limousine Rachel arranged for them to move the conviviality to the theatre where Rachel's opening night would take place.

It started getting more crowded the closer they got to the theatre until the limousine wasn't able to drive anymore since the road was occupied by a mass of people that were angrily waving around with banners, claiming today's working conditions for nanny's were unjust. Brittany could only think about Rachel, who was probably somewhere in the theatre completely freaking out about the insurgents, not daring to set one foot on the red carpet unless she was surrounded by at least three security guards.

''Oh,'' Kurt's jaw dropped when seeing the mass of people through the tinted windows. He glanced at the fuss outside for a moment, his eyes glassy and red from the alcohol, before he planted both his hands on the window. ''I wanna join in, you know, fight for human rights.''

Sam sniggered and removed Kurt's hands from the window, leaving two greasy handprints. ''Don't let Rachel hear that.''

''But I'm serious,'' Kurt crowed, ''_look at them_. They're fighting for our kids' rights. _Or something like that_.''

Blaine rolled his eyes and opened one door, linking his arm with Kurt's and gently pulling him outside the car, into the crowd. As soon as the door opened Brittany literally got blinded by the flashes of the cameras. People behind the crush barriers started yelling at them and although Brittany couldn't overhear everything, she heard the three words '_signature_', '_Brittany_', and '_Rachel Berry_'. Who in earth would want to have Brittany's signature and how did they even know her name? As far as she knew she didn't accomplish anything in life yet, except from graduating and maybe winning the cat beauty pageant with Tubbs.

''I'm going to get this one some water,'' Blaine pointed at Kurt before he disappeared between the flashes and intrusive reporters.

Sam stepped out first, reaching out his hand to Brittany and after that helping Artie getting his wheelchair out of the trunk. While Brittany waited for them she tried to size up the situation; it was like they were animals in a zoo. They were the meerkats everyone would gather around. A chubby boy would repeatedly hit the fence in attempt to make them do a stupid trick. After a while his mom, who was too busy holding together the other chubby siblings while she dabbed her baby's mouth which was covered in ice cream because he couldn't eat his ice cream properly, would pull him away with an annoyed glance at the meerkats because they didn't perform. That was the only right interpretation of what was happening to Brittany right now.

''_How can you handle this_'', she whispered at a surprisingly calm Sam who had already lifted Artie in his chair –the gentleman that he was- and had loosely put an arm around her waist.

''Just smile,'' was his answer. ''_Just smile and wave_.''

So that was what Brittany did, smile and wave, and surprisingly enough they managed to get to the other side of the red carpet without Perez Hilton attacking them or an obnoxious TV host stalking them with intruding questions about their love life. Seen the increasing number of times the words _'Rachel_' or '_Miss Berry_' got shouted, they got closer to the star of the evening, and Brittany was right. In between the other cast mates stood a scared looking Rachel, trying to camouflage her insecurity, but Brittany knew better. God, she looked like a scared little puppy. Or the little Hotdog on evenings he was alone in the apartment with Santana, but comparing Rachel with their pet would be mean. Brittany sneaked up from behind Rachel and gently put an arm around her, not wanting to scare the girl away.

''Looking good Rach,'' Brittany spoke right beside her ear, not letting go of the smile on her face she was granting the flashing lights.

As soon as Brittany spoke the words, Rachel relaxed into her arm, casually lowering her hip a little. ''God I'm so happy you're here Britt,'' she quivered. ''_Are those freaks gone yet_?''

Brittany shook her head and turned them around a little to give the paparazzi on the other side of the fence a chance to make a picture. ''I don't know but don't worry about that. _You've got enough security_,' 'she nodded at the five men in black suits behind them.

Brittany could see Rachel scowling from the corner of her eye. ''_Do you think it's too much_?''

''Nah,'' Brittany disagreed with her, but only because now wasn't a good time to agree with Rachel.

''_Yes Berry! That's the right angle. Come on, don't be afraid to show off that huge nose of yours_.''

Brittany felt Rachel flinching when she heard the familiar sarcastic tone of voice right behind them. She would probably be wondering why she even bothered inviting them. She looked over her shoulder to set eyes on a wide grinning Santana, _and God_, she looked amazing. Her long black hair was part from the side and was casually draped over her breasts; not to mention the beige jumpsuit that accentuated literally all of her shapes perfectly. _How could this woman even look like this, seen the crap she was filling their refrigerator with_?

''My eyes are up here _Blondie_.''

The grin got even wider when Brittany gazed at Santana's face again. Brittany quickly averted her glance, pretending to be interested in an 'I used to be fat' candidate she just spotted walking on the red carpet.

''I gotta say you also did a pretty damn good job,'' Santana nodded approvingly at Rachel.

''Why thank you,'' Rachel recovered herself, putting a hand on her hip and tossing her hair over her shoulder. ''_And who's that_?'' she wiggled her eyebrow at Santana.

Santana pulled up her nose. ''_No ew, gross_. Not with Puck. I'm gay, remember?''

Puck took a step forward and reached out his hand towards Rachel. ''Puck. _I assume you already know my buddy Finn?_'', he added with a smirk.

Brittany scowled at Rachel, who was getting red. What did Puck know that she didn't?

''Which Finn?'' Rachel stumbled in an attempt to convince them about her ignorance.

''Oh you know what I'm talking about,'' Puck seemed to enjoy making Rachel feel awkward. ''The one with manboobs, I'm sure I spotted him in a tuxedo a few minutes ago. He's searching for you.''

Santana's jaw dropped. ''_Geez seriously, Berry?_ The secret gay you've been dating is _Finn?_ _Manboob Finn_? God this evening is getting better and better,'' she grinned.

''_Rach_,'' Brittany couldn't help the disappointed tone of voice, ''why does everyone know him but me?''

Rachel started looking more nervous and put a hand on Brittany's lower back softly, but also pressuring her to pursue their way to the end of the red carpet, where they found back a livid Kurt, clinging to Blaine, who seemed to be too soaked up in a conversation with a blonde woman to grant him any attention.

Brittany met Finn inside right before the show started and Rachel was right: he was very nice and also quite handsome, she had to admit. After a while she also stated she couldn't see any signs of manboobs, at least not tonight. Rachel left them to change her clothes and go over her lines and they took places in one of the front rows, having a perfect view on the stage.

The show started and the moment Rachel walked up on the stage, Brittany couldn't catch any sight of the nerves she spotted before: she changed into the stage-diva as Brittany knew her, and by the time the audience stood up to give her a standing ovation –even Santana had climbed onto her seat to loudly whistle with her fingers, to the pleasure of the men that were sitting on the row behind them because all of them unashamedly checked out her ass- Rachel radiated her normal 'I know I'm talented and better than all of you behavior'.

''Look at this,'' Santana patted Brittany's shoulder when they were standing in a backstage room after the show. Rachel was busy chatting with her cast mates about how amazing the show went and Kurt had slumped down on a sofa with Blaine after extensively congratulating her on her successful opening night; they were clearly bored by now. ''What's better than a party?''

''Uh I don't know,'' Brittany frowned. ''Food? Lucky Charms?''

Santana rolled her eyes. ''No. _An after party_, smartass.''

She grabbled around in her clutch to bring out a few of the same golden tickets Rachel had given them before, only those said 'VIP'.

''How did you even get them?''

Santana shrugged and grinned. ''The security guards here are idiots. They fell for the same pickup lines I use on girls.''

Brittany couldn't restrain her curiosity. ''Like what?'' she pulled off casually.

Santana tilted her head a little and gave her a surprised grin like she was trying to say 'really Brittany? _Really_?' Then, without responding to Brittany´s question, she turned around and snapped her fingers at Rachel, who was still in a heated discussion about today's musicals compared with older ones.

''_Berry, shall we go_?''

Rachel threw her head in her neck, laughing at a joke one of her cast mates just made. She seemed to have no notice of the irritated Latina, nor Blaine, who was practically pounced by Kurt.

''Goddamnit Berry, _I have fucking ants in my pants_,'' the black-haired raised her voice.

Brittany pulled up her nose. ''Ew. Gross.''

''What?'' Santana scowled at her, ''no, not like- whatever, let's go.'' She grabbed Brittany's arm and beckoned their followers. ''Let's get drunk.''

They left the backstage room with, eventually, Rachel hot on their heels. The after party turned out to be in the same building, but just on the other side of where they entered the building. Brittany leaned on the handrail of the grand staircase in the middle of the marble tiled hall. Here and there she spotted some celebrities, a few of Rachel's cast mates and some people she didn't recognize. A DJ was playing relaxed music and in front of the DJ booth was a free bar (Santana: ''Thank God. Have fun, you know where to find me.'')

The evening went by without anything special in particular, except from Puck trying to hit on Brittany a few times and Santana constantly hogging Artie's wheelchair because she maybe had a little too much to drink, but it was quite funny.

''There you go,'' a voice drowned out the other noises.

Brittany turned around, facing a Santana with red cheeks. She was reaching her a –packed to the gunnels- long glass. Santana's must have seen Brittany's facial expression because she waved with her other hand and also leaned on the handrail, next to Brittany.

''Relax, it's just a gin-tonic.''

Brittany took the glass. ''Knowing you it could've been something with at least eighty percent alcohol.''

''Thanks, I guess,'' Santana stared blank ahead. ''So correct me if I'm wrong, but you seem to have wicked fun here.''

Brittany couldn't help but feeling caught. She wasn't aware of the fact her face wasn't really radiating the definition of the word 'fun'. Her face was probably more sending an 'I want to get out of here' message.

''Nah- not really,'' Brittany confirmed nodding.

''Why not?''

''I don't know,'' Brittany shrugged. ''Not really into the whole musical world I guess. _Didn't think you would be_,'' she added, sipping from her drink. Okay, it really was gin-tonic.

Santana rolled her eyes. ''Oh I'm not, can you imagine me skipping around a stage while hysterically singing how miserable my life is? I'm just trying to network. Why do you think I got us these passes?''

There she was with her 'networking' again. The only thing she gave away about her being in New York was that she was here for business and that she was away late because she was busy 'networking'.

''What are you even up to here?''

''I started my own record label,'' Santana responded as if she already told Brittany a thousand times.

''Oh wow,'' was the only thing Brittany managed to utter. ''Why didn't you tell us when you moved in?''

Santana shrugged. ''I don't want to be like one of those people that move to New York, full of themselves. They are most likely to go back home within a few months with a shattered dream. _You know_?'' her face brightened, ''I think the term '_Rachel Berry'_ applies well on that.''

Brittany glanced down from the landing, finding Rachel standing in the middle of the dance floor, arms wrapped around Finn tightly and slowly dancing to the music. Santana had a point, but wasn't completely right as well. Because Rachel was a good example of one of the few people that actually managed to follow their dreams. As far as Brittany knew every single person in this room was together here, at this very moment, to see Rachel –and yes also the rest of the cast- performing. Brittany also hoped one day people would gather to see her first exhibition, or that they would buy the Vogue because Brittany's photos got published.

''Except, Rachel did made it,'' Brittany stated.

Santana followed Brittany's glance and frowned when she also noticed Rachel who was, by now, passionately kissing Finn.

''Just… _wanky_.''

''Uh-huh,'' Brittany couldn't help but agree. She hesitated for a moment but then, without any doubt, grabbed Santana's wrist and dragged her along. ''Come on, let's go.''

Surprisingly, Santana didn't resist but just let her get dragged along through the building with a surprised facial expression. Luckily Brittany knew this building to the core, otherwise she would've already been lost by now. They reached the top of the stairs, and Brittany opened the door to the roof, revealing a big, empty roof, lightened by the many billboards that were hanging everywhere.

Brittany walked over to the edge and sat down, letting her legs dangle into the depth. When Santana didn't immediately follow her example, Brittany gave her a little smile and patted on the cold concrete next to her.

Santana ducked, leaning with one hand on Brittany's shoulder and also sat down on the edge, only further away from the edge. She was probably afraid of heights, since she also hesitated about jumping off the pier, but Brittany didn't say anything and just smiled.

''I come here a lot,'' Brittany interrupted the silence. ''It's like, the only place in the city where it's some kind of silent.''

Santana nodded. ''I like it, _except from that_,'' she pointed at a billboard right in front of them. It showed a picture of a stereotype male model, holding up a tube of toothpaste and showing off his perfectly bleached teeth by grinning widely.

''I know right?'' Brittany mumbled, tilting her head a little. ''Before this ad it showed the STD campaign, which also was pretty disturbing because every time I came here it confronted me with a twenty feet high picture of gonorrhea or a instruction for how to put on a condom.''

''God I'm so glad I never visit this part of the city,'' Santana shook her head disapprovingly. ''How did you even find this place?''

Brittany thought for a moment, not being sure when she actually found this spot. ''Uh- I think it was the night after I had a party here. Yeah definitely,'' she nodded when the memories popped up in her head. ''Rachel and I went to a party and she got pretty drunk so we decided we had to- you know, never mind.''

Santana leaned back, resting on her lower arms. ''That must've been one hell of a night, _Berry drunk_,'' she scoffed, smirking widely. She was probably laughing at all the images of a drunken Rachel that popped up in her head.

''Oh, it was,'' Brittany stated, thinking back of the moment Rachel was entirely convinced about the fact she was Spiderwoman and that she was able to swing to the billboard across the street. Within a hair's breadth she jumped down the building, but Brittany and Kurt had stopped her.

''Here,'' Santana scooted closer and draped her leather jacket around Brittany's shoulders, pointing at Brittany's arm when she shot Santana a questioning glance when she also got a scarf out of her clutch. ''_Goosebumps_.''

''Oh, right,'' Brittany mumbled, pulling the jacket a little higher to cover her neck. A delicious scent that smelt like pancakes, mixed with coconut –_and cigarette smoke_?- entered her nose. Brittany inhaled a little deeper, but not too obvious because that would make her look like a psychopath and that was the last thing she wanted.

Santana snorted, probably because she was sitting next to a pile of clothes and reached out her arm. ''C'mere.''

Brittany hesitated for a moment, but then accepted the other girl's invitation and leaned into her arms, immediately warming up because Santana was like a portable heather.

They had stared at the lights and the traffic down them for a little while when Brittany felt Santana's hand moving from her upper arm to her own hand. Brittany's breath caught when Santana's fingertips touched the skin on her hand, after which she slowly started trailing a path of warmth under Brittany's sleeve. _What was she doing_?

Brittany moved her head a little to catch a glimpse of Santana from the corner of her eye, but she was just staring in the distance, like she wasn't even aware of what her hand was doing.

By now, Santana's hand had moved from Brittany's arm to her hip, where she also started making little figures on the fabric that was sticked to Brittany's skin. And, just when the hand ran over Brittany's thigh, she pulled away from Santana's arms.

''Why are you laughing?'' Brittany frowned when a huge grin creeped upon Santana's face.

''Told you so,'' Santana spoke with a muffled voice.

''_Told me what_?''

''I told you how I got the VIP tickets and you asked me _like what_?'' Santana imitated.

Oh right, the security guards she talked about before, how stupid of her.

''You're mean,'' Brittany stood up and reached out her hand for Santana to take.

Santana grabbed her hand, stood up and softly patted Brittany's cheek, still with the same grin on her face. ''_And you're cute_.''

Brittany smiled and shook her head while she started walking towards the door which led to the staircase, being incredibly grateful there wasn't much light on the rooftop. Because her cheeks? They were red as could be.

**AN: ****I'm sorry if there are any mistakes, feel free to point them out! Also, if you'd like to see specific things happen don't hesitate to pm or tell in a review. I'd like to see where you think the story could be heading **


	5. Chapter 5

And, just then, Brittany remembered why she hated this mall so much: the obnoxious shop litterally attacked her the minute she put one foot in their territory. But seriously, if even Brittany hated something, something had gone really wrong because she was always the person giving people second, third and sometimes even fourth chances, but this mall had gone way too far.

She only came here in emergencies and this was one of them. Hotdog had pooped on their new carpet. Their new _lilac high pile carpet_ to be precise. Both Brittany and Santana boggled when Rachel brought the thing into their home, but it turned out Marcela had given the carpet to Rachel –who marvelously accepted it- and they didn't want to take away the only thing Rachel and their psychopathic Polish neighbor had in common.

That didn't alter the fact that the carpet was absolutely _hideous_. Brittany and Santana had spent so many evenings trying to learn Hotdog the commando 'destroy carpet' or 'poop' and just when they were so desperate Santana had actually –after a considerable amount of vodka- put forth to volunteer and shit the carpet herself, Hotdog intervened and –on a certain evening- shit _and peed_ the carpet. The little angel that he was. The reactions ranged between:

Rachel: ''_NO!_ Bad dog! Bad _Hotdog_!''

Santana while lifting the dog up and enthusiastically swaying it around, but even then managing to pull a grossed out facial expression: ''Good job my little fatass!''

And that was actually the only highlight about Brittany's annual visit to the mall: she got to choose a new carpet, and since Rachel wasn't with her because she was too busy learning her lines, they wouldn't ever need to go through the misery that was called 'Having a lilac high pile carpet' again.

So Brittany, armed with earphones as deeply as possible plugged into her ears to discourage shop assistants to talk to her, was doing a pretty good job reaching the fourth floor where the carpets were located, when she got distracted by a noise. A noise so hard it penetrated her music. How could she possibly be the only one hearing this sound? When nobody around her –not even the shop assistants- showed any sign of following the noise to see where it was coming from, Brittany unplugged her earphones and did it herself. _Note to self: really don't ever visit this mall again, not even with a carpet drama_.

She crossed the carpet department, and also the wedding dresses department to where the loud, mirthless sound was coming from: the changing booths. Brittany thought things like this were only happening in Sex and the City or Gossip Girl, but this was real. This was real life reality television, or ITV.

After knocking the door of the last changing booth several times, Brittany gave up and opened the door ajar, giving the person in the changing booth a chance to fix herself.

''_Hello_?'' Brittany asked with one eye closed.

The heartrending crying faded out and a soft sob took over. Brittany opened the door a little more to reveal a woman, sitting on the floor. She wore an outrageous wedding dress, but only having it pulled up to just under her breasts and the zipper on her back remaining unzipped.

''_Hello_?'' Brittany repeated.

This time the woman slowly turned around, wiping off dark stripes of mascara from her face. She kind of looked like a sad bride from the horror movies Brittany sometimes watched. Only a bit prettier, but even as sad.

Brittany started to feel uncomfortable with the silence and the whole situation, and just when she wanted to turn around and leave the woman alone, the sad bride spoke.

''We were out for diner, and he said: I'm leaving,'' she sobbed.

Brittany nodded in acknowledgement, not knowing how else to respond. When the woman didn't continue her story, she kneeled down and handed her a tissue which she gratefully took with a weak smile on her face.

''A-and then I said-,'' the woman stuttered. ''Honey, I said: _I just ordered Carpaccio_. But he left, completely. _Forever_.''

That wasn't what Brittany expected. Holding back a giggle, she softly patted the woman's back in an attempt to comfort her. But come on: the woman was wearing a wedding dress at least three sizes too small, not to mention her huge boobs that probably wouldn't even fit into a size L. Her appearance would definitely be an awesome look for a 'left at the altar' photo shoot.

''I know,'' the words sounded stupid in Brittany's mind but she didn't know what else to respond.

The redhead lifted up her head and wiped away the last few tears from her face. ''I'm sorry, my name is Lana,'' she shook Brittany's hand.

''Brittany.''

''You're probably thinking I'm mental. It's okay if you want to leave,'' she sniffed.

''No, no,'' Brittany quickly responded. ''It's okay, I was just… uh _carpet shopping_? It's no big deal, really,'' she added. ''I could use some expertise anyway you know, my roommates are having quite high expectations of me.''

''Right,'' the wedding dress, including the woman, stood up. ''I think I can help you, I have a pretty good taste when it comes to carpets, _unlike wedding dresses_,'' she joked.

Brittany smiled. She was glad she could distract the strange woman, and that she was –at least- joking again.

A few minutes later the woman had changed her clothes and they left the wedding dress department to go to the carpet one. And Lana was right: for as far somebody could have a good taste in carpets, she had a damn good taste. They both agreed on the low pile burgundy carpet, and by the time they left the mall, the redhead already seemed to be a lot happier, plus Brittany didn't even thought about the stupid mall for one second because _carpet shopping was fun_.

''So, just out of curiosity,'' Brittany tried to find a proper way to ask her question, ''why were you fitting a way too smallwedding dress when he left you?'' She already regretted asking as soon as the words left her mouth. Stupid curiosity.

Lana shrugged. ''I guess I just wanted to know what it looked like. And you know, since I started dating him I gained _fourteen pounds_. I couldn't really see until I fitted that dress again. I already fitted it before,'' she explained.

''Wow,'' Brittany blurted. ''That's a lot. My roommate also eats a lot of crap but she doesn't gain weight ever, she has like, the best body I've ever seen.'' Brittany rolled her eyes at herself. Why did she have to say that? It didn't even add anything useful to the conversation.

But Lana didn't seem to find anything weird about Brittany's comment. ''Oh, who's it? Do I know her?''

''I guess not, she's quite new in town,'' Brittany shrugged while she crammed a piece of her bagel in her mouth, ''her name's Santana.''

Lana frowned for a moment. ''I don't know, her name sounds familiar. _Maybe we've worked together once_,'' she added.

''What do you do?''

''I sing, or at least, I try to,'' Lana smiled.

Brittany scowled. ''The fact that you _think so_ probably makes you a very good singer.''

Lana shrugged and also crammed her last piece of food in her mouth.

''Anyway, you want to meet them? Rachel has a right to know who chose her fabulous new carpet since Santana and I kind of are the reason we needed a new one in the first place,'' Brittany grinned.

The smaller redhead shot a quick glance at her watch before she nodded. ''Okay but I don't have much time though.''

And so she met Rachel, because Santana was in her room and didn't want to get disturbed or something like that. As expected, Brittany had a hard time convincing Rachel that Lana wasn't a foreigner and that she just met her at the mall (Rachel: '_'__What? __You_ can roll your eyes at me Brittany but remember a few months ago? You signed up for an exchange program without telling me and before I knew we had a German snooping around here. _I'm sure that's why Marcela is mad at me_.'')

Die hard as she was, Rachel kept throwing phrases in other languages at Lana's head until Brittany got so embarrassed she decided it was best for her to leave and meet Santana another time. Lana left, and as soon as Rachel closed the door, the cross-examining began.

''So, your new flame, Britt?'' Rachel wiggled her eyebrow at Brittany while she dried the dishes. Whether she did that to really dry them or to just do something was a mystery to Brittany.

''Uh, no,'' Brittany closed the topic of discussion, blankly staring at the TV-screen.

''Are you sure?''

Brittany could literally hear the excitement in Rachel's voice. She always started talking like that when she was onto something. Or when she thought she was onto something, which she usually wasn't.

''_You know, I remember that time in High School when_-,'' Rachel started her sentence but Brittany cut her short by throwing a pillow at her head.

''Oh my God Rach, _shut up_,'' Brittany tried to sound annoyed but she couldn't hold back a smile.

Rachel tossed the pillow back at her and emerged from the kitchen to take a seat next to Brittany.

''That's what you get for letting Hotdog shit on our carpet.''

''_Your carpet_,'' Brittany corrected her, putting one finger in the air.

''Did I hear something about a certain Hotdog?''

Brittany straightened and looked over her shoulder to see Santana emerging from her bedroom. She had a headphone draped around her neck and Brittany could've been hallucinating all that she wanted but she swore Santana was wearing one of _her_ pink unicorn sweaters, she didn't mention it though.

''Yes, the Hotdog that almost _choked _in one of your _cables_,'' Rachel said haughtily while she crossed her arms.

''_Woah-woah_,'' Santana slumped down on the fauteuil, ''that's not the story,'' she explicitly looked at Brittany. Apparently something happened when Brittany was carpet shopping and now she had to be the person to judge which story sounded more plausible. Sometimes it really felt like she was living with two children.

''_You_,'' Santana pointed at Rachel, ''are the person who went into my room, _without my permission_, and let the door wide open.''

''I just needed to borrow slutty nail polish Britt,'' Rachel pouted at her with her Bambi eyes.

''Okay, _one_,'' Santana put up her perfectly polished nail, ''my nail polish isn't slutty, and _two_, that dog nor you should _not_ be in my room. _I needs my privacy_.''

Brittany put up her hand to shut up both of them, and it even worked. ''Just… have it out by yourselves.''

''Fine. I'm going to take a bath,'' Rachel stood up.

''Yeah walk away, _Mother Teresa_,'' Santana jibed at Rachel's back.

Right before Rachel opened the bathroom door, she turned around. ''Oh and also? That pink, vibrating thingy that's on your bedroom floor? Not safe for Hotdog.''

''Geez _Berry_,'' Santana pulled away the pillow from under Brittany's head and threw it with massive speed at the already quickly closed bathroom door. ''_That_ is so not true,'' she scoffed slash grinned at Brittany, who could only smirk at Santana while a muted laugh came from the bathroom.

''One point for Berry,'' Brittany stated.

/

A flashback of one of Santana's first nights in their apartment shot through Brittany's mind. Her bedroom door opening, softly closing and footsteps on her creaking parquet (Kurt: ''Oh wow Britt, even your parquet is hobo-chic.'') Only this time Santana didn't threw a party and not a single couch got broken, so who was sneaking into Brittany's room this time?

The sheets shifted up, letting a cold breeze run over Brittany's bare back before the mattress dented a little and a source of heat immediately warmed the cold spot on Brittany's back, causing her to shiver a little.

''Sorry.'' A warm hand on Brittany's upper arm let the goose bumps disappear.

Judged on the coconut-cigarette smoke that filled the room, the person lying next to Brittany wasn't Rachel, or Marcela, or whosoever.

''Did you also split your _bed_ in two halves?'' Brittany half-joked, half-asked.

''No.''

Well, so far for attempting to not let the discussion die.

Santana sighed in Brittany's neck, just then letting Brittany realize how close she was actually lying against her. For about as far as Brittany knew (last New Year's Eve had been hysterical with Rachel, Kurt and Blaine sleeping in her bed), three people would easily fit into her bed, but this felt like they were crammed into a single bed.

''I watched a horror movie, okay? And besides that, your ball of wool on feet keeps waking me up by pulling down the curtains or jumping on me.''

Brittany's laugh got smothered by her pillow but she couldn't help herself. Santana being scared of a horror movie or Tubbs? Was she sure it wasn't Rachel who just climbed into her bed? Brittany shifted her weight and rolled over, facing two brown, curious eyes and her own pink sweater, recognizable by the golden glitters from the unicorn's horn and the rainbow. The person indeed was Santana.

''You're telling me _you're_ scared because you watched a _horror movie_?''

Santana rolled her eyes and playfully nudged Brittany's shoulder. ''Stop it. I didn't expect it to be this scary.''

''Good thing you're here 'cause I was already afraid I'd get nightmares from the image of that pink thing Rachel mentioned,'' Brittany shrugged.

''God, that was _so _not true,'' Santana huffed.

Brittany smiled into the darkness; riling Santana was pretty funny.

''Hey Britt, can you maybe do me a favor? _I can pay you for it though_,'' Santana quickly changed the subject.

''Probably.''

Santana lifted herself up a little and leaned on her lower arms, glancing down at Brittany. ''So I had this idea because I discovered this awesome new band but they aren't really far-famed yet but I really think they've got a shitload of potential so I'd like to help them get more noted-.''

''Don't forget to breath,'' Brittany interrupted her because the olive colored skin in Santana's face had turned a little red, for as far that was possible of course.

Santana nodded, took a large inhale and continued her story. ''And that's when I thought about you. Can you help them shooting some promo material? Since you're studying photography and stuff, you know…''

''Yeah, of course,'' Brittany immediately responded. It sounded like fun, plus it'd be good for her own publicity.

''Oh- great,'' Santana lay on her back again with a puzzled expression on her face. Maybe she didn't think Brittany would've agreed that fast. ''Just tell me how much and-.''

''I'll do it for free,'' Brittany waved away Santana's words, ''_but_, I have one condition.''

''_Oh God, what_? Is it the sweater?'' Santana innocently glanced down and picked the pink sweater, ''because I think I've finally seen the light: _they're comfy as fuck_.''

Brittany sniggered. It was true. Once somebody had put on one of these sweaters they didn't want to give it back. Yes, they maybe were a little childish and yes, also a little too big but they were perfect. Rachel had already hogged three of her sweaters –including her favorite green one with a Lord Tubbington look-alike on it-, although Brittany didn't know where she hid them because she never wore them anymore.

''I know right? But no, it's not the sweaters. Do you've got a recording studio?''

Santana narrowed her eyes at Brittany and pulled the blanket a little higher until her whole body, except from her face and shoulder were covered. ''_I do, why_?''

''That's my condition. I'd like a tour through your studio. I gotta see in what I'm investing you know.''

''Nah-ah,'' Santana firmly shook her head. Apparently that wasn't even up to discussion. ''That's where the magic happens, _it's the temple_. I can't show you: it'll lose its magic.''

Brittany turned around, facing the wall. ''Fine. Good luck finding another photographer.''

As expected, Santana didn't spoke for a little while. Seen the nervous movements Santana made next to Brittany in bed, she was probably weighing Brittany's proposition: to show her studio or to no show her studio. Brittany waited in anticipation, pretending to be asleep, and a few minutes later she got her answer.

A deep sigh. ''Okay fine, _whatever_. I'll show you my goddamn studio.''

Brittany couldn't help but grinning widely. _Result_. She glanced over her shoulder and reached out her hand to shake Santana's outstretched hand.

''Deal.''

''_Deal_?'' Santana's version of the words sounded more questioning, but at least she agreed.

Brittany turned back and decided it was best to not say anything about it anymore. She didn't want to make Santana hesitate again because she was way too curious to see her studio and where she worked.

''Brittany?''

''Hmm?'' Brittany responded, not wanting to give Santana the idea the studio was still up for discussion.

''Are you… _gay?_''

Okay, that was a quick turn of the subject. Where did that even came from? Did she say something really gay this evening? Or were it the sweaters? Brittany turned around to see if Santana was serious, but in the meager moonlight that peaked through the curtains, Brittany's couldn't catch any sight of her not being serious.

''What?'' Brittany stammered, but not because the question, more because of the timing of the question. ''I don't know, why?''

''Oh I just-,'' Santana moved a bit awkwardly, ''I heard you talking to Rachel and then she said something about a new flame and something that happened at High School….''

Brittany grinned. Had she been eavesdropping on them? Pretending like she didn't hear them because she had her headphone on her head?

''I wasn't eavesdropping or something like that,'' Santana tried to recover casually, ''I just picked up something from your conversation and you also passed Puck's many attempts to hit on you at the opening night.''

''It's okay,'' Brittany tried to soothe her. ''As I said, I don't know. I don't believe in falling for a certain gender. Maybe I'm like, bisexual,'' Brittany thought out loud. Now that Santana asked her about it, she realized she didn't really know. She never thought about it that way, it seemed obvious to her that if you like a person, you just like them for who they are and not for what gender they are.

''Right, I understand,'' Santana muttered softly.

''Good,'' Brittany smiled, ''I'm going to sleep now, early classes tomorrow.''

Santana simply nodded in acknowledgement before she quickly pecked Brittany's cheek and turned around, pulling the sheets ever higher over her face. ''Good night Britt.''

Brittany remained lying on her back for a little while, flustered about what just happened. Not about the peck, because that was something Rachel and she pretty much always did before they went to bed, so that was normal, right? It was because of Santana's smirk –ever so small-, before she turned around.

/

_**Opinions?**_

_**Edit: Sorry for uploading the chapter again, I found a few mistakes **___


	6. Chapter 6

**So for the past few minutes ****I tried to find a socially approved way to put last Thursday's episode into words but I just couldn't. It just sucked big time. Anyway, having that said, here's your much needed dose of Brittana. And Rachel.**

Brittany softly patted Rachel's shoulder to warn her: they needed to get out of here. It was warm, sweaty, Hotdog started to get annoying and a fat guy in the corner of the room wouldn't stop winking at her.

''Let's just go.''

''Yeah,'' Rachel repeated, only louder, ''let's go Santana.''

Santana, who was hanging over the counter and was in a heated discussion with the little Thai man –who started to look desperate-, turned around and narrowed her eyes at Rachel.

''_No_. You want your rice to be vegan, we get your rice goddamn vegan.'' Santana pointed at a sign above the counter. ''Quote: _for all of our plates it's possible to replace the meat with tofu_.''

''But ma'am,'' the Thai man said in a thick Thai accent while he also pointed at the sign, ''it says it's only possible with the family menu or the full moon menu.''

''_Full moon in your ass_,'' Santana rolled her eyes. ''Does it really takes that much effort to simply not bake some chicken and put a little tofu in the rice? God, working at a restaurant is not rocket science.''

''Santana,'' Brittany stepped forward. The queue behind them had doubled in their time in the Thai and they were now practically surrounded by annoyed people that were scoffing or sighing every ten seconds. ''We've got some tofu left in the apartment, I'll just bake that.''

But, before she reached the half of her sentence, Santana had already lost her attention because something close to the ground squeaked loudly.

''_Uh excuse me, asshole_?'' Santana nudged a man's shoulder. ''_You're standing on my dog_.'''

The man sourly took her in from head to toe. ''I'd be careful if I were you. Fried dog is a deli in Thailand.''

Brittany briefly gazed at Rachel, whose eyes were practically beaming out rainbows and pots of gold of joy. And unicorns.

''She called Hotdog _her _dog Britt,'' Rachel exulted.

''Okay. We're leaving,'' Brittany stated.

Half an hour later they were back in their apartment; one gruffly Santana and one packed with paper bags Rachel further, they finally had their food. Brittany had convinced Santana to give up and just take the vegan menu, so they could add meat at home as yet.

After dinner they slumped into their usual positions: Rachel sitting on the edge of the couch, afraid she'd miss anything from her favorite TV shows, Brittany horizontally occupying the couch with her legs on Rachel's lap, plus Tubbs hogging her own lap, and Santana disappeared under a blanket in the fauteuil, her legs on the coffee table.

''Mufasa!'' Rachel yelled excited.

''_No, Rachel. Mane. It's mane_,'' the lump covered in blankets sighed. ''They're not asking for a character from the Lion King, they're asking what lion hair is called. Don't you understand how crosswords work?''

''Oh,'' Rachel pouted. In her world everything had to do with the Lion King.

''_Egg__ shaped_,'' the woman on the screen spoke very explicit, probably because half of the viewers watching this show was at least sixty years old. And then there were them, watching the show, having not even reached their twenties.

''Rachel's head?'' Santana suggested in a snort.

''_An egg_?'' Rachel put forward, scowling deeply.

''_Oval_.''

Rachel sighed and slumped down even further, childishly pouting and crossing her arms. ''This game is stupid, let's play another one.''

''Nah,'' Santana shook her head. ''You've already used your television time, and, besides that, we made a pact. I got to choose the channel if we took the meatless crap.''

Rachel shot Brittany an insisting glance but Santana was right: _deal_ was _deal_. Santana put up with the vegan food, so, for tonight, the remote was all hers. Also, the main reason they even had to get food from the Thai was because Marcela found out about their new carpet. In a short summary Marcela knocked on their door to get some sugar, but in reality just wanted to check on her lilac carpet. The Polish woman saw their new one, found out what happened with the old one, and went straight to their meter closet to attack their boiler. They didn't know what happened but it sure looked like the last time Marcela broke their radiator as punishment.

''_Burst of a bad temper_.''

''Rachel, when she's out of tampons or didn't get laid for longer than nineteen years. _Oh that's right, she's nineteen_.''

''Shut. Up.'' Rachel reached out and shoved Santana, including the pile of blankets, off the fauteuil with her foot. ''Hiding the tampons was _not _funny Santana. And stop referring all of your answers to me. It's not funny anymore.''

''_What the_-,'' Santana started, but her sentence got caught off by a scream and a dull sound when she hit the floor.

''Rach,'' Brittany changed the subject of discussion, ''where is my Lion King sweater? I know it's awesome and stuff but it's the warmest one I've got and it's cold at night. Even Tubbs is complaining.''

''My room,'' sounded from the floor. ''Top drawer.''

Brittany expected Santana to stand up and get the sweater for her, but instead of that, Santana stood up, covered herself in the blankets again and sat down in the fauteuil, locking her gaze at the screen again. She waited for the girl to say anything but then the idea that Santana might suggested that Brittany could get the sweater herself popped up into her head. And Brittany eagerly took the opportunity. Until now Santana's room had been like the library at High School: tucked away and not a place Brittany had ever been before.

So, Brittany carelessly stood up –or at least, she wanted it to seem like that-, and made her way over too Santana's room. And Rachel had been right the last time: Santana's room was a mess. Not just a mess as Brittany knew it, a real _mess _mess.

The floor was covered in CD's, cables, pictures and clothes. Santana's bed wasn't visible because two laptops and another pile of clothes hogged it. The complete right wall was decorated with old LP's and records and a shitload of papers were piled up on a desk. If Brittany didn't know this was Santana's room, she would've thought it was the room of a teenage boy.

And of course, in the back of her mind, Brittany knew she should've just searched the piles of clothes to find her sweater but the laptops just looked too tempting.

Brittany opened the laptop, pressed the ON button and within a minute the background image of a smiling Santana in a wetsuit, with one hand holding a surfing board, and her other arm loosely around a blonde girl's waist, popped up. Brittany briefly scrolled through the other pictures on the desktop: most of them were Santana on the beach with people, Santana on parties with people or Santana trying to not look like a tourist in famous places while it wasn't possible to look any more like one. But it was cute.

A flicker on the left side of the screen caught Brittany's attention. A new e-mail with the subject '_vocals_' just came in and without thinking, Brittany plugged in one of the many headphones in the room and played the sound file.

A deep but feminine voice started singing relatively slow. Too slow for punk songs, or indie rock, but that didn't surprise Brittany because she didn't think Santana would own a rock label. Brittany still couldn't put her finger on what genre it actually was, but from what she heard, it sounded pretty good.

''_Brittany_?''

Brittany quickly turned around, causing the headphone to slip off her head and fall on the ground.

Santana was standing in the doorway, scowling at her.

''What are you doing?''

/

**Sorry for this chapter****'s length, it's more like an appendix from the next chapter but in my opinion the story worked out better this way.**


	7. Chapter 7

''Wait, Santana,'' Brittany panted. ''I didn't bring any clothes. _Bikini, you know_?'' she added slightly insecure when Santana scowled deeply at her.

''_Bikini?_'' Santana repeated, her eyes wide with unbelief.

''Yeah… well, I don't know what you need for surfing,'' Brittany shrugged while she strategically moved around the other pedestrians on the sidewalk. It was around dinner time and probably half of New York was outside to go for dinner or to lounge at the pier.

''Ah,'' Santana grinned while they went down the staircase that led to a little dock where a few boats were floating on the calm waves. ''You're probably not going to need a bikini, although I don't think I'd mind if you put one on.''

''Ah-ha,'' Brittany mumbled after she grabbed Santana's outstretched hand and hopped into the same boat the Latina girl just went on. Was she hallucinating or were they actually about to steal a boat? Therewithal, what was happening anyways? Only half an hour ago Santana caught her snooping around on her laptop, demanded her to put on her coat and to follow her. And now they were at the other side of Manhattan, in a _boat_.

Santana tossed the sports bag she dragged along with her Brittany's way and brought up a set of keys from the pocket of her leather jacket and started the engine.

''Your Lion King sweater is in the bag. You'd better put it on, it's cold on the water in evenings.''

Brittany did what she was told and sat down on the white leather seats in the back of the boat. Okay, apparently Santana wasn't stealing the boat since she had the keys, and they couldn't be Rachel's because if they were, Brittany would've known. They hugged the coast, in the distance the Statue of Liberty looming up from the dark and then they followed the city lights all around the coast.

Brittany glanced back at Santana, who had casually lowered one hip and controlled the wheel with one hand, had a cigarette clenched between her teeth and was blowing small clouds of smoke in Brittany's direction. Well, at least the mystery of where the cigarette smoke in their apartment was coming from was finally solved.

After a little while of boating Santana moored at a wooden jetty where several other boats and jet skis were floating.

''We're there,'' Santana stated while she hopped onto the jetty and beckoned Brittany.

Being of her alert, but yet very curious Brittany followed Santana along the beach. She liked surprises and all, but of all people she was with Santana, the most unpredictable person Brittany could imagine. Maybe they were going to pick up another exotic animal like an iguana because Rachel didn't let Beer the ferret into their apartment. Last week Santana brought home a ferret under the motto 'Rachel gets to bring home lame animals and we miss Whiskey, so let's bring in an awesome new pet'. She continued their tradition to give their pets names of liquor and named the ferret 'Beer' but Rachel just couldn't get convinced, to Santana's irritation.

''Yo Blondie! Move your ass!'' Santana shouted from the distance, she had already reached the end of the beach and was now nervously tapping the ground with her foot, one hand on her hip and still holding a cigarette between her thin fingers.

Brittany reached her and followed Santana through an alley which led to the backyard of a few houses that appeared to belong together. In the centre of the houses was a small pool, surrounded by a few reclining chairs.

''_Paw_.''

''What?'' Brittany frowned at Santana who had patted the fence of one of the houses. _What were they even doing here_?

''I need your help getting over the fence, smartass,'' Santana hissed impatiently.

Brittany intertwined her fingers for Santana to step on and within no time Santana climbed over the fence and opened the gate from the other side of the fence.

''_San_,'' Brittany whispered with a lump in her throat as she followed Santana over the porch of the house, ''what are we doing here? This doesn't feel right.''

Santana didn't respond but lifted up the doormat to grab a key and opened the back door, leaving the door ajar for Brittany.

''Giving you what you want since you're way too curious,'' Santana shrugged. She turned on the lights and dropped her bag onto the floor. ''Welcome.''

Brittany's mouth dropped when she realized where they were. It was Santana's recording studio. Within a few seconds she lost the unpleasant feeling she had before and let her eyes soak up everything in the room: the piles of CD's, the mixers, the small room at the left that looked like a living room slash waiting room, and of course, the other room at the other side of the glass, where a microphone and several instruments stood.

''What? How did you even…?'' was the only thing Brittany could utter. It probably sounded stupid but she didn't know which question to ask first.

Santana emerged from the other room, reached Brittany a glass with a small amount of liquor in it and sat down in the leather desk chair in front of the mixers.

''My dad used to live here, I took the place over and reconstructed it into a recording studio.''

''The boat?'' Brittany slumped down on the chair next to Santana.

''Also my dad's,'' Santana took a swig from her glass. ''This place is easier to reach by boat because of the shitload of traffic in the city and I like water, _hence the surfing and stuff you know_,'' she added with a smile.

Brittany nodded. She still couldn't process everything that happened the last few minutes. It was just so much.

''And why the climbing over the fence? _Let me guess_,'' Brittany smiled when Santana was about to speak, ''you threw a party, set one of your neighbor's houses on fire and passed out drunk and naked in their front yard.''

Santana closed her mouth, leaned back a little and let a smile creep up on her face. ''Well… _no_, although that would've been interesting. No, I just wanted to add a little more drama, you should've seen your face,'' she snorted.

Brittany playfully nudged Santana's shoulder. ''I hate you.''

''_Ahh_, that's so nice of you'' Santana exulted in a pleased tone of voice. ''I know. You're my favorite roommate too.''

Brittany also snorted, but had to laugh on the inside. She leaned over and reached out her glass towards Santana, a sign Brittany thought she'd recognize and she did. Santana took the bottle and poured them another drink.

''So… show me what you've got,'' Brittany smiled after a brief moment of silence.

''What do you mean?''

''You know what I mean,'' Brittany smiled, ''don't be so mysterious about your music. It's probably awesome.''

Santana rolled her chair closer to the desk and turned on one of the many laptops. ''You should know, you already listened to it.'''

Brittany knew it was her way of upbraiding her for the thing that happened before at their apartment but she figured that if she really was upset with her, she would've gotten into one of her Spanish rants. Or just kicked her ass out ofher room, but not let her listen to more of her music.

''Uh, what do you want to hear? 'Cause I don't really know what music you prefer and I also don't-''

''Anything,'' Brittany interrupted Santana's sentence.

Santana nodded slowly, scrolled through a list of songs for a while and then seemed to have found the right song.

''This is something I'm still working on. They're friends from San Francisco and they, uh, they produce deep house and techno,'' Santana nervously scratched her forehead. ''You know that?'' she raised her eyebrows questioningly.

Brittany shook her head. They weren't one of the genres she used to listen to.

''Okay,'' Santana sounded a little disappointed when she pressed play, ''maybe you'll like it anyway.''

Brittany was surprised when the song started with a saxophone. In Brittany's imagination Santana was more the type to own a hip-hop label or something like that, but not this kind of lounge summer music. Although, on the other side, it wasn't weird at all because this music fitted perfectly with the lifestyle in San Francisco, where Santana came from.

The saxophone faded and a deep beat, mostly consisting of bass, took over. It wasn't what Brittany was used to listen to, but it was nice, it gave her a relaxed feeling.

''Just… never mind,'' the curious eyes glanced away and Santana turned around to stop the song. ''I knew you wouldn't like it.''

''What?'' Brittany got back to reality, ''_no_, I like it. I'm sorry, I just trailed off. Can I hear something else?''

''_Sure_?'' Santana turned around and a few seconds later the same kind of slow house music filled the room.

''The vocals you listened to,'' Santana pointed at her laptop, ''they belong to this song, I only need to edit it and it's done.''

''Wow,'' Brittany muttered softly. ''It's pretty cool how you're doing this all on your own,'' she gestured towards the room. ''You parents must be proud.''

Brittany then realized she was talking to Santana's back. She had turned around and was now carelessly scrolling through the songs without a goal, blankly staring ahead.

''You kind of expect that, right?'' Santana smiled weakly. ''Unfortunately they're not.''

''_Why_?''

Santana shrugged. ''They say the music industry has no potential. That I should go to college and become a doctor and not waste my time thinking I can make it, because _why me_? There are so many people out there with this dream.''

Brittany leaned back in her chair. Santana spoke in a sad tone of voice, like she had already told the same story over and over again to people. Rachel and Santana actually had a lot in common: they both had big dreams and moved to New York to follow them. And being able to dream and not being afraid to follow them was a beautiful quality, in Brittany's opinion though.

''I guess they're just… afraid,'' Brittany spoke to Santana's back. ''They're gonna regret it though, when you're famous and making big money and stuff.''

No reaction.

''Here, drink'' Brittany nudged Santana's back with her –still full- glass to make her turn around, and took Santana's glass to pour herself another one.

Santana turned around and smiled when she saw Brittany reaching her the glass.

''You trying to get me drunk Blondie? I know this trick, many men have tried it on me.'' She playfully narrowed her eyes and took the half of the glass in one sip.

Brittany grinned and also took a sip. ''Nah, I'm pretty sure I'd be able to get you there without needing alcohol. _Oh_, and I prefer to be called just Brittany.''

Santana slightly tilted her head. ''I like your confidence, _Just Brittany_.''

Brittany felt all the blood in her face running to her cheeks, and she was pretty sure the reason wasn't just the alcohol. She lingered her glance on Santana: the nonchalant way she had slumped down in her chair just a little, crossed her legs but yet managed to look anything but boorish. How her leather jacket had creeped up a little, just enough to show a little of the tanned skin on her abdomen, but leaving enough to the imagination. In the little light, and with just the right amount of alcohol in Brittany's blood, Santana's worn-out sneakers and the messy bun on her head also looked way more sexy then normally.

Brittany's glance lingered on Santana's lips, and, just when Santana's lips curled into a satisfied smirk, and she finally realized the attention she was getting, Brittany firmly put down her glass on the desk and, in one motion, rolled her office chair at full speed towards the smirking girl.

Seen Santana's quick reaction of removing one leg from the other and tossing away her glass onto the carpet, she realized what was happening, and, before Brittany knew it, plump lips had already meeted hers. They both collapsed, but managed to not break their kiss and end up on the floor instead –apparently Santana also had a great taste in carpets because, God, this one was soft-. Brittany ended up lying on her back, Santana topping her with a wide grin on her face.

_Wait, no. What was she even doing? Where did that weird impulse even came from? This was so not ideal: Santana was her roommate and this would make everything very awkward._

Brittany grinned at her own thoughts and brought up her hands to cup Santana's glowing face and pulled her even closer to deepen the kiss. _Whatever._

A soft touch of fingertips started trailing a path under her shirt from her abs to just under her breasts, where Santana rested her hands. As if on cue, they both gasped into the kiss.

Brittany's thoughts trailed off to Rachel's opening night. Santana had been right, there was no reason to doubt about that anymore. She knew _exactly _what to do to girls.

/

A tickle right under her nose cause Brittany to wake up. Goddamn carpet. Brittany rolled over to lie on her back, patting the space next to her, but the place where they had fallen asleep a few hours ago was, besides Brittany, empty.

Brittany flushed, opened her eyes and her presumption got confirmed: Santana had left the building.

With a stiff back from lying on the ground all night and a pounding headache –Santana kept coming up with stupid drinking games last night-, she straightened and sat down on the carpet.

_Off to a meeting. Sorry._

Brittany scowled at the little note that was pinned to the coffee table with the two empty glasses from last night. Her sweater was also on the table, next to a twenty-dollar bill on which was '_cab_' scrawled and a takeaway mug filled with coffee. Judged by the mug's warmth Santana didn't leave a long time ago.

After a brief moment of thinking, Brittany stood up, grabbed her stuff and left the house. Not that she know what to do since she was too late for class and both Rachel and Santana were busy, but okay. She didn't have anything to do here either and maybe she could use her time to find some new spots to take photos.

Lost in thoughts Brittany wandered around the pool in the backyard, her hand pressed against her forehead because she had the feeling it decreased her headache, not noticing someone watching her from the other side of the backyard.

''_Excuse me, ma'am?_''

Brittany squeaked softly and snapped up her head in the direction the voice came from. A middle-aged man, mearely wearing hideous green shorts and holding a towel came closer.

''I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you,'' he smiled with twinkling eyes. ''_Bob_.''

Brittany shook his outstretched hand. ''Marcela.'' She had no idea why she introduced herself with her neighbor's name but the thing she did knew was that Rob's shorts were way too tight. Especially for a man at his age.

''Nice to meet you Marcela.'' Bob nodded towards the house behind Brittany. ''When did you move in?''

''Uh,'' Brittany stuttered, ''_last week_?'' She couldn't help but saying the last sentence in a questioning tone of voice.

''Good,'' Bob nodded satisfied, apparently not noticing Brittany was talking through her hat. ''I think I speak for the whole neighborhood when I say that we're glad they left.''

Brittany pricked up her ears. ''Who left?''

''You know,'' Bob nodded towards the house again, ''the previous owners.''

''You mean the, uh, _middle-aged_ man?'' Brittany suggested carefully. She absolutely had no idea what Santana's father was like.

''No, his daughter and her weird boyfriend,'' Bob frowned as if by speaking about them, horrible memories popped up into his head. ''Strangest coupled ever if you ask me.''

_Boyfriend? Brittany very much doubted if they were talking about the same girl._

''What did she look like?''

Bob glanced back at Brittany, giving her a questioning glance. ''Well, you bought their house, you should know what she looks like. _Long, black hair. Incredibly long, thin? I guess she's Latina or something exotic like that?_'' he added when Brittany didn't respond.

''Right, now I remember,'' Brittany nodded, confused on the inside, ''indeed a good thing they left.''

Bob smiled and patted Brittany's shoulder. ''I like you Marcela. I highly doubt if you're going to have as much conflicts around here. Now, I won't bother you no longer,'' he pointed at the cardboard mug in Brittany's hand, ''you seem to be in a hurry.''

''Thanks, I actually am,'' Brittany granted him a friendly smile. ''Nice to meet you Bob.''

''Same to you,'' Bob spoke before he dived into the pool. And, before Bob including his tight green shorts could appear in sight again, Brittany went through the gate to prevent herself from seeing things she really didn't want to see.


	8. Chapter 8

Small note: I listened to The Kooks' 'Seaside', 'Ooh La', 'Sofa Song', 'Matchbox', and 'Naïve' while writing this chapter because I wanted to provide the chapter with that atmosphere. Maybe you'll understand when you hear those songs, or you won´t, just a tip, do with it whatever you want to ;')

/

''We went to the Top of the Rock Observation Deck, Britt, it was so romantic,'' Rachel exclaimed dreamily, her eyes getting a little glassy as she swooned and kept staring straight ahead.

''Okay, you can give that to me,'' Brittany subtly took the steaming coffeepot from her clammy hands. God, Rachel was really getting worse. It was like Brittany had rolled straight into one of those juicy romantic comedies she tried to avoid but just couldn't because the whole world seemed to like them.

''…and then he put his coat around me,'' Rachel babbled melancholy while she scanned the kitchen dresser with her hands without looking.

Brittany saw Rachel's hands getting dangerously close to the toaster and in a split second she gave the toaster a little push so it shoved away and was not within Rachel's reach anymore. Being in love was seriously pretty dangerous.

''You know what he asked me?'' Rachel's glassy eyes were now pinned to Brittany, impatiently waiting for Brittany's answer, and she would tell Brittany, even if Brittany wouldn't be interested at all.

''No?'' Brittany said in a tone that made it way too obvious that she wasn't really listening, but Rachel didn't notice. Normally she would. But this was far from normal.

Rachel smiled dopily. Like a girl who just unwrapped her first Christmas present. ''He asked me if I wanted to be his girlfriend.''

''Aww,'' Brittany exulted while she briefly placed her hand over Rachel's in acknowledgement. As if she didn't see this coming at all after the several cliché New York dates they had been on. ''I'm so happy for you Rach, really.''

''I know,'' Rachel nodded, her head still in the clouds. ''I think I'm in love.''

''Really? You wouldn't say so.''

Rachel smiled and walked around the counter to pull Brittany in a loose hug. They stood like that for a while when Rachel pulled back and carelessly pecked Brittany on the cheek.

''And I'm so glad I'm here, in New York, with my best friend.''

Brittany smiled at Rachel's glowing face and went to the other side of the kitchen unit to pour herself a cup of coffee. ''Me too. The best friend who just saved your life multiple times though,'' she added chuckling.

Rachel kept wandering around Brittany for a little while until Brittany pointed out that she was late and that she maybe had to leave since Finn was coming over that evening and Rachel had mapped out an entire timetable for the night. Well, it wasn't a real timetable of course but Brittany thought it was pretty close.

With one last ''Really, I'll behave tonight'' and ''I'm sure he'll like it'', Rachel was convinced of her own plan and she finally left the apartment to leave Brittany in the early morning silence.

In contrary to most of the other people, Brittany enjoyed early mornings. There was something mysterious about mornings that drew her. If she could, she would spend every morning sitting in front of the window, wearing her fluffy socks and with a large cup of coffee, just watching people pass by their apartment, wondering where they would be heading.

''She's got it good.''

Brittany looked up. Santana made her way over to the kitchen, beautiful as always in her oversized sweater, shorts and pink fluffy slippers.

''God, you don't have to tell me,'' Brittany keckled. ''She just spent half an hour informing me about her love life and… wait, you were eavesdropping on me again.''

''…please, save me the details about Manboob,'' Santana ignored the second half of Brittany's sentence and pulled a grossed out facial expression, ''believe it or not, I'm gay with a reason.''

''I don't doubt that,'' Brittany muttered slowly.

Santana gave her a soft smile and maneuvered around Brittany to reach the coffeepot, loosely placing a hand on Brittany's lower back to keep herself from losing her balance. A slight gasp escaped from Brittany's mouth when she felt Santana's warm hand on the thin fabric that sticked to her back. But it was too soft for Santana to actually hear it, and Brittany was glad about that.

''What are your plans for tonight?'' Brittany subtly informed, ''I figured you didn't want to be here with them clinging and stuff, you know.''

''I don't know,'' Santana shrugged while she took the slices of bread that just popped up from the toaster, ''I thought it would be fun to throw a party, boycott their cute little plans a bit.''

Brittany examined Santana's facial expression while she provided the toast with an ample layer of butter, but she couldn't catch any sight of the laughing eyes that usually gave her away when she was trying to make Brittany believe something that was not true.

''Are you sure about that?'' Brittany put forward carefully. ''I just mean… Rachel actually seems to really attach value to tonight.''

''Why not?'' Santana took a bite from her toast and shrugged. ''Haven't had a party in a long time.''

Brittany tilted her head a little and scowled at Santana. And there they were. The laughing eyes.

''Okay, _no_, I was kidding. I don't really have any plans for tonight. I thought about inviting Puck over, 'cause we never really use the roof garden and the weather is still great in the evenings.''

''Sounds fun,'' Brittany nodded. ''Maybe I could ask Kurt, I heard he's also in town.''

''Fine with me,'' Santana smiled while she took a last bite from her toast and offered Brittany the remaining piece, which she gratefully took. Breakfast was great, but breakfast made by other people was even better.

''Gotta get myself ready,'' Santana pecked Brittany's cheek at the same place Rachel did before on her way to her bedroom, ''I'm having this meeting and if they like me they'll probably offering me a bigass interview in their magazine, wish me luck.''

''Luck,'' Brittany responded a little later without thinking, then realizing how incredibly stupid that sounded, but whatever. A loud voice coming from the bathroom, singing something that sounded like a really old Fergie song already out drowned her voice.

Later that day, Brittany decided to live on the edge and she went to the mall she hated so fiercely, but it was for a good cause. The good cause that was called 'Getting Kurt Over His Heartbreak', something Rachel came up with. Brittany had called Kurt after her conversation with Santana, and he indeed was in town, but mainly because he and Blaine broke up and now he was searching for distraction in the form of some man candy. Brittany would finally be able to hang out with her favorite unicorn again. She had missed him. Considering they were pretty good friends to Kurt, she at first didn't notice someone enthusiastically waving at her.

''Brittany! _Hey_!''

Brittany scowled when she realized to which department she unconsciously had walked to. It was the wedding dresses department and no less a person than her favorite redhead was waving at her.

''Please don't tell me you had another meltdown and that you're fitting wedding dresses again,'' Brittany grinned when Lana stepped forward and gave her a quick hug.

''Shit, I thought my plan was solid,'' Lana joked, ''but no. Believe it or not, I'm actually working here now.''

''Oh really?'' Brittany couldn't help the surprised tone of voice. If there was one person less suitable to work at a wedding dresses department it was Lana. No offense, but when Brittany met her, the girl herself was fitting a wedding dress at least three sizes too small. In the last changing booth. Crying. Because her boyfriend had left her when she just ordered Carpaccio. And that was rude. Brittany would never leave someone after just ordering Carpaccio.

''And what about your singing career?''

Lana made a nonchalant gesture with her hand. ''Singing can wait. Guess New York isn't really looking for new talent right now.''

''_What_?'' Brittany blurted, dismayed. ''That's crap, of course New York is.''

Brittany thought for a moment. Was it weird to invite Lana for tonight? Santana was also inviting Puck after all and Kurt would be there, so asking Lana if she would want to come over couldn't hurt, right?

''You know what,'' Brittany patted Lana's shoulder, ''you should come over tonight. A few friends are coming and then you can meet Santana, she has got her own record label. _Maybe you could work together_,'' she added, trying to sound careless. It sounded pretty awesome to say.

''I don't know,'' Lana shrugged. ''I don't want to be a burden and stuff…''

''You're not,'' Brittany comforted her, ''they'll like you. Plus, you can meet Kurt. He is my unicorn and he just broke up with his boyfriend and we're going to try to fetch him over to go to a gay club with us. He's always talking about going there but he never does it, and now…''

''Okay, fine,'' Lana frowned and cut her off. ''I'll stop by.''

''Sweet.'' Brittany knew she just agreed on her proposal because she found herself falling in one of her word flows again but she didn't mind. If that was what it would take for people to say yes, it was fine with her.

/

''I did it. _I fucking did it_.''

Brittany glanced at Santana, who slammed their front door open and was now standing in the door post with her fists in the air. Knowing her, it probably was some kind of ghetto sign with a badass meaning, but Brittany didn't really want to know what it exactly meant.

''You did what?''

''The magazine,'' Santana chattered impatiently while she dropped her bag and slumped down on the couch at Brittany's feet, leaning with her back against Brittany's lower legs. ''Four pages in New York's biggest music magazine. _Holy. Fucking. Tits_.''

''Really?'' Brittany tore loose her glance from her laptop screen and raised her eyebrow at the excited girl. ''That's amazing San, congratulations.''

''Yeah,'' Santana muttered slowly, obviously lost in her own thoughts. ''I need you to do my hair, like you did last week. _Can you do that_?''

''Sure.''

''Geez, don't be so goddamn excited,'' Santana huffed. ''I'd almost think you can't wait to help me.''

Brittany let out a deep sigh. Santana was right, but she was just really busy with assignments for school.

''Sorry,'' Brittany closed the laptop screen and stared into two big, excited-looking eyes. ''I'd love to help you, I could give you like, palm tree hair, or,'' she took the left side of Santana's hair and folded it over to the other side. ''I could shave the left side, you'd actually rock that look. It'll look very… lesbian.''

''I appreciate you coming up with ideas but, no, I don't think I'll go for that look,'' Santana smiled, but her smile soon turned into a grimace. ''God, do you smell that?'' Santana turned around and pulled up her nose, ''something's burning. Big time.''

''Hm,'' Brittany responded in a mumble, still over thinking several hairstyles she could try on Santana. Maybe two ponytails à la Pippi Longstocking.

''Is Rachel burning her hair again?'' Santana turned her head towards Rachel's bedroom in which she disappeared over more than an hour ago. ''_Berry_! Your dog food is burning!''

No response.

Santana sighed, rolled her eyes and pulled herself up from the couch with a heavy groan. She disappeared to the kitchen, probably to get the burned food off the stove. It was chaos. Rachel was the worst at multitasking, Santana and Brittany both knew, but tonight it got awkwardly confirmed again: Rachel was having a crisis in her bedroom choosing her clothes while she was cooking for Finn and her.

''Why are you being sneaky?''

Rachel's head snapped up in Brittany's direction, who just saw Rachel practically running from her bedroom towards their front door with her head bend down. Rachel mouthed a '_shut up'_, while she quickly slipped into her coat and put on the first shoes she saw. They were Santana's knee-length leather boots but okay, Brittany wasn't going to put any more pressure on the girl.

''_I'll be back in a few minutes_,'' Rachel semi-whispered.

''_What's happening_?'' Santana, with her sense of noticing literally everything, emerged from the kitchen with crossed arms.

Rachel's eyes widened when she saw the Latina. Obviously trying to find an escape for something, she pulled her coat down a little further and buried her nose in her scarf.

''I just realized I forgot rice, so I'm going…,'' Rachel stumbled but her voice faded away when Santana shook her head disapprovingly.

''What's happening _there_,'' Santana pointed at Rachel's skirt.

Rachel's cheeks reddened. ''_Oh that_,'' she sighed as if she was a child that had to confess something to its mom. ''I just… oh come on, it's comfortable and I'll be back in a minute because I just need to get some rice.''

''_No_.''

Brittany gazed at Santana, intrigued by what was happening. Clearly something was going on between Santana and Rachel that she didn't knew of.

''We made a deal and you're not keeping yourself to the promise. _Give them to me_,'' Santana beckoned Rachel with an evil smile on her face, seeming to enjoy whatever was going on.

Rachel reluctantly crossed the room. Like a criminal on its way to the guillotine. Or like Hotdog, when he had shit somewhere in the apartment again. It took Rachel a pretty long time to get him house-trained, Brittany thought as she watched the going-on between Santana and Rachel closely.

Rachel was now right in front of Santana andhad unzipped Santana´s boots, and took off her knee-length legwarmers, which she placed in Santana's outstretched hand with a somewhat guilty facial expression.

''Good,'' Santana grinned, having her gaze pinned at Rachel. ''And _why_ did we agreed on not wearing those again?''

''Because they make me look homeschooled,'' Rachel said in a sigh.

''_And_?''

''Because the only men I will attract are pervs or eighty-year-olds.''

''Exactly,'' Santana nodded with a pleased smile, after which she grabbed her lighter and, right in front of Rachel, set the legwarmers on fire.

Brittany's mouth dropped at what just happened.

''Rachel, don't take that,'' Brittany encouraged Rachel to do something but Rachel didn't protest but just sadly glanced at the burning legwarmers.

''_Santana_,'' Brittany stood up from the couch and reached out to take the lighter from her when Rachel pushed away her hand.

''She's right Britt, we had a deal,'' Rachel just shrugged. ''And I broke the promise.''

''What promise?'' Brittany scowled. She couldn't make head or tail of it.

''I got to borrow slutty, _stripper chic_, lingerie for tonight'' Rachel rolled her eyes when Santana shot her a death glare, ''if I promised I wouldn't wear legwarmers combined with skirts again.''

Brittany glanced at Santana, who confirmed Rachel's story with a nod, and she couldn't keep herself from rolling her eyes but smile. Everything in this apartment was based on deals. Rachel would make two variations on dinner –one vegetarian and one with meat-, if Santana would take Rachel's clothes to the dry cleaner's. Santana would distract Marcela so Rachel could sneak into their apartment, if she got to have the remote all evening. Maybe Brittany should participate in their way of dealing with each other as well since it seemed to work out pretty good.

''You guys are weird,'' Brittany shook her head.

''I learned it from the best,'' Santana snapped back but seen her face she didn't mean one word from that. ''Oh, and look what I got us for tonight,'' she grabbed into one of the brown paper bags she brought with her.

''_How surprising_,'' Rachel scoffed when Santana showed them a bottle with a transparent substance in it. Without devoting any more attention to Santana and her bottle of liquor, she disappeared to the kitchen to fix anything from her food.

''Turns out,'' Santana ignored Rachel's comment, ''Marcela, Polish beauty from the block, has got her own illegal distillery. Like literally, half of her house is turned into a factory. I found out because she left her door ajar and Hotdog went in, so I followed him. _Five bucks_,'' she stated proudly, satisfied with her own discovery.

''Guys, _please_,'' Rachel peeked at them from the kitchen, ''Finn's arriving any time soon, can you at least leave the living room? I'm already letting you invite friends _and _set my legwarmers on fire.''

''_She set your legwarmers on fire_,'' Brittany pointed at Santana, but followed Santana towards the hallway.

''I need you to help me,'' Santana tossed the bottle of liquor onto her bed and took out a trunk from under her bed. ''My flight is departing tomorrow morning and I don't know what to take. Like, should I take the black dress or the red one?''

''Your flight?'' Brittany echoed while she slumped down onto Santana's enormous bed.

''Uh-huh,'' Santana mumbled, pulling different pieces of clothing from the clothes hangers and cramming them into the suitcase. Then, taking out her black leather pants because Brittany shook her head when she packed it. ''_LA, I've got an interview and a photo shoot_.''

Brittany shook her head. Why was Santana lying again? First about the house in Long Island and now about this? Brittany almost had the feeling like she member of a notorious Spanish crime family in San Francisco or something like that.

''Well, that's kind of weird,'' Brittany scowled at the piece of paper in her lap she at first sit on, but then realized it was a plane ticket, ''I don't remember needing to change at San Francisco when you're on your way to LA.''

Santana's muttered voice sounded from the inside of the closet. ''What the hell are you talking about? Why would I change at San Fran?''

''Because _this_?'' Brittany shoved the plane ticket in her direction, causing Santana to stop what she was doing to gaze at the ticket.

''Oh.''

''I- uh,'' Santana slumped down next to Brittany, seen her puzzled facial expression not sure what to say. ''I'm stopping by my parents', my little sister is actually graduating tomorrow.''

That was actually more innocent and less badass as Brittany had imagined it would be.

''Cool,'' Brittany nodded. ''What's her name?''

''Arianna, she's uh… my twin sister,'' Santana scratched her cheek nervously, obviously trying to find an escape for this conversation.

Tons of questions popped up into Brittany's head. Why would Santana be embarrassed to talk about her sister? Because, for as for as Santana's cheeks could redden, they had. And why did she call her sister her '_little sister_', seen the fact they were twins? And why was Arianna graduating now, while Santana had already graduated two years ago?

''Well now I feel stupid because I didn't get her a present,'' Brittany ignored the sudden urge to attack her roommate with questions. ''I would love to give her Tubbs for a few days but he can't go one planes anymore since he escaped from his cage and almost let the plane crash last time we flew,'' she thought out loud. ''Just congratulate her on behalf of me and give her the unicorn sweater you hogged from me.''

Santana sniggered and crammed another pair of jeans into her suitcase. ''You know, I'm actually a hundred per cent sure she'd absolutely _love_ that sweater.''

''Good,'' Brittany smiled, ''then at least I'm sure it's at a right place instead of it rotting away in the corner of Rachel's room.''

''Gross,'' Santana agreed with her.

Another piece of clothing, lying on top of the large pile of clothes on Santana's bedroom floor caught Brittany's attention.

''You're forgetting something really important,'' Brittany leaned on the bed frame and grabbed the wetsuit to hand it over to Santana.

''That's exactly what I meant,'' Santana rolled her eyes, ''if it weren't for you I would've forgotten that.''

A loud noise emerged from the living room that could only mean two things: Rachel had blown up their oven or Puck had arrived, and the second one turned out to be true because, after the noise a voice resounded from the hallway.

''_Yo_! _Folks_!''

Both Santana and Brittany followed the voice to find Puck and Kurt, standing in the hallway. Puck with the door knob in his left hand and a paper bag in his right hand, and Kurt anxiously glancing at his own reflection in the mirror, picking his shawl.

''Shh, Puck,'' Kurt hissed impatiently. ''You're about as subtle as a goddamn elephant, Finn's already here. And fix that door knob before they notice you broke it with your rudeness.''

''Too late,'' Santana announced their presence with a grin, causing Puck to grin even wider when he spotted the two of them.

''Lil' sis!'' he blurted enthusiastically while he pulled Santana in a tight embrace, not letting go of the dopey grin on his face. ''Excited for tomorrow? Believe it or not, I'm already done packing my stuff, mainly because of my personal stylist over there,'' he nodded towards Kurt.

''Wait,'' Brittany flustered while Kurt hugged her briefly. ''You're going together?''

''Sure thing,'' Puck stated, after which he pulled Santana towards the door which led to the roof garden, cheerfully chatting about their trip.

''Do you have like, something to drink?'' Kurt waved his hands awkwardly around. ''Something with alcohol? Maybe wine? I need something to get through this night.''

''Yeah, but wine's in the kitchen and I don't know what Rachel and Finn are doing.''

Kurt seemed to weigh up the pros and cons before he covered his eyes with his hands and ducked away towards the living room, although Brittany could see two curious green eyes peeking through the spaces he had between his thin fingers.

''Dear God, please don't be naked. Don't be naked. _Are you naked_? Answer please.''

''Hello?'' a surprised voice came from the door. Lana was standing in the door post, curiously glancing at the hole where the door knob used to be. ''Guess there's one hell of a party going on in here.''

Brittany smiled and beckoned her towards the roof garden. ''No, I'm not that badass, a friend of mine just pulled it down.''

''I highly doubt if I'm ever going to fit in with your friends,'' Lana sniggered sarcastically as they entered the roof garden, where Puck and Santana had already opened the bottle of –by Marcela homemade- vodka.

/

So that's it for now. The next chapter will be a sequel to this one and will, pinky swear, consist a whole lot more of Brittana. I'm also considering adding some music suggestions here and there, so let me know if you'd like that or not. Thanks!


	9. Chapter 9

As expected, Lana immediately fit in with the rest of Brittany's friends. Kurt had already extensively told her about his break-up with Blaine and a beaming Santana had already told her story about Marcela and the cheap alcohol more than five times.

Brittany smiled at her friends from a distance, sitting on the small brick wall, from which its duty wasn't entirely clear. Like, it was too little to prevent people from jumping off the building –worst case scenario of course-, but why else would it be there?

''Blondie,'' Puck leaned on the fence right next to Brittany, offering her a beer, which Brittany gratefully took.

''I'm sorry, I was just kidding. Santana told me you don't like that,'' Puck took a swig from his beer and stared into the distance.

''I don't really care,'' Brittany shrugged.

Puck nodded and kept staring ahead for a little while until he spoke again.

''Hey Britt, can I ask you something? Just, out of curiosity.''

''No, you can't have Lord Tubbington,'' Brittany immediately responded. ''He's my little precious fatass.''

Puck smiled. ''Oh, that's a pity.'' He turned around and pointed with his beer to Santana, who had climbed onto the table and now was giving Kurt and Lana an air guitar concert. ''What's up with you and Santana?''

Brittany laughed but didn't react. She just didn't really know what to say.

''She's acting different when you're around but also when we're going to a club or something like that,'' Puck continued. ''Normally she'd score more girls and phone numbers than I would but now she's just… well, pretty goddamn boring to go out with. And she mentions you a lot.''

Brittany couldn't help but feeling flattered. Santana talking about her with Puck?

''Can you keep a secret?''

''Sure.''

Brittany beckoned him to come a little closer. She didn't want somebody –especially Santana- to hear what they were talking about.

''We kissed,'' Brittany sort of whispered, ''and we had pretty sweet lady sex,'' she added with a grin.

''So what are you?'' Puck continued his interrogation, ''bisexual? Gay? Straight?''

''I am straight,'' Brittany repeated Puck's words. He nodded in acknowledgement, turned around and leaned with his back against the fence, staring at Kurt, Santana and Lana who now were playing a _very_ weird variation on Pictionary.

''_I am straight_,'' Brittany muttered again, getting a questioning look from Puck, ''…straight like a banana.''

Puck sniggered and raised his cup to push it against Brittany's. ''I knew it.'' The tone of victory his voice was immersed with was risible. ''Just, one thing. _Don't ever hurt her_. She's like, my little sisters and if you hurt her, you'll get to deal with me.''

Brittany nodded. If there was one person she didn't want to be in trouble with, it was Puck. ''Clear. Can I also ask you something?''

Puck shrugged as if he said 'anything'.

''Did the two of you lived on Long Island before you moved to Manhattan?'' Brittany pricked up her ears.

Puck nodded. ''Yeah. In her dad's old house. Why?''

''I just don't understand,'' Brittany muttered. ''I was there like, a week ago and Santana had already left and the neighbor came to me, asking me if you had already moved and if I were his new neighbor. He also said the entire neighborhood was glad you guys had left.''

''Ah,'' Puck exclaimed with a grin on his face. ''Ol' green speedo Bob. Yeah… they didn't really get along if you ask me.''

''Do I want to know?'' Brittany scowled. ''He said something about you being a weird couple and conflicts.''

''Uh.'' Puck scratched his Mohawk, staring at Santana. ''She was just being Santana, you know. Throwing parties, having a shitload of people in our house, not backing off from a fight and stuff. I actually don't think there was a neighbor with whom she didn't have any problems.''

''Right,'' Brittany nodded. That indeed sounded like Santana.

By now, Rachel and Finn had joined their little roof garden party. They got louder, and Brittany overheard them working out a battle plan for Kurt for tonight. Apparently Santana thought he needed to get laid, while Rachel and Lana were of the opinion that he just needed to fine someone cuter than Blaine to make him jealous.

''Let's help our little gay out,'' Puck smiled, ''I owe him since he was an amazing wingman a few weeks ago.''

''Britt!'' Santana jabbered as they joined them, pulling Brittany onto her lap, ''tell Lady Hummel that he needs to get laid. I'll pay him two hundred bucks if he asks out the chubby kid from the kiosk.''

''_What_?'' Brittany uttered.

''Shut up Santana,'' Kurt jeered across the table, ''I'd bet my entire collection of Evita DVD's that I can get more phone numbers in that gay club than you. _And you don't even have two hundred bucks_.''

''Woah,'' Santana put her finger in the air, ''I smell a bet coming up. And yes, I do have money since I have a job.''

''Good for you,'' Rachel joined the conversation, but only in her own benefit, ''so you can finally pay more than the half of the rent.''

''Starbucks doesn't pay that much,'' Santana narrowed her eyes while sipping from her –by Marcela brewed- beverage, ''and I need money to buy a new wetsuit because my boobs don't fit in my old ones no more because of some mysterious reason.''

''… and money to buy yourself dignity because you clearly lost yours,'' Kurt jibed. ''Oh and also for a new weave.''

Santana's jaw dropped. ''Ohh, it's on _Lady Hummel_, it's totally on. You'd better watch that double chin of yours.''

''Shh,'' Brittany tried to restore the peace by putting an arm around Santana, which actually worked.

''Well, I think it's time to go,'' Rachel suggested.

A little while later they arrived at the gay club Rachel had chosen (''Really guys, I work with gays the entire day and the only thing they talk about is this club.'') Of course, Rachel and Finn immediately disappeared in the crowd and Puck took Lana upstairs to get something to drink in a booth. Kurt also left to get something to drink, leaving Brittany and Santana on the dance floor, where they danced a little while until Santana muttered something about alcohol and disappeared from Brittany's sight.

Brittany understood Rachel's intentions, but this club just wasn't fun. It was filled with over-the-top musical gays and butch lesbians with Mohawks. Both not really her type. Brittany stepped onto the staircase in attempt to find Santana, and after a little while Brittany spotted the Latina standing in the middle of the dance floor, also scanning the room.

Finally, Santana noticed her standing on the staircase, and she started pushing her way through the crowded dance floor, getting pissed looks from all over the place but she didn't seem to notice.

Brittany smiled at her when she reached the bottom of the staircase, signaling her to follow her to the first floor and, just when Santana had reached the same height as where Brittany was standing, her heel faltered and Santana hit the staircase face-first.

''Oh crap,'' Brittany bended and grabbed Santana's hands to help her up. ''Are you okay?''

''_Fuck_… lesbian down,'' was the only thing Brittany could gather from the rant that came out of Santana's mouth.

''Let's get you something to drink.'' Brittany knew she would never reject a drink, and of course, she didn't and followed her.

They slumped down into one of the booths on the first floor, deliberately choosing the one the most far away from Puck's and Lana's because they didn't look like they wanted to get interrupted.

''It tastes like cinnamon,'' Santana grabbed a shot glass and passed it over to Brittany. ''Wanna try before you drink one? 'Cause it'll be a waste to drink one when you're not sure because it's expensive as shit, you know.''

''What do you mean?'' Brittany couldn't catch up with her.

''You're really bad at taking hints,'' Santana smirked as she cupped Brittany's glowing face. ''Come here.''

''_Where_?''

''Right here.''

Oh right, _like that_, Brittany thought as Santana pressed her lips onto hers. Without hesitating, she answered Santana's lingering kiss. She heard the people in the booth behind them starting gossiping about them, but she couldn't care less. At this moment, everything was gay and nothing hurt. She smiled into the kiss when Santana's soft tongue entered her mouth and leaned closer to deepen the kiss. Just then, Santana pulled back with a smirk on her face.

''Woah, enough of trying,'' Santana teased.

Brittany tilted her head a little at her, tossed back the shot glass that Santana had claimed and grinned. ''Yep. Definitely cinnamon.''

She caught Santana off guard by leaning in again for another kiss, but this one was different, more intense. Brittany gasped as Santana's cold fingertips ran along the thin fabric of her dress that was sticked to her hip. She answered by intertwining her fingers with Santana's long, black hair, letting a deep moan escape from Santana's mouth.

''Ladies… I'm sorry to interrupt,'' Kurt's high-pitched voice drowned out the music, ''but the cabs are here.''

With difficulty, Brittany pulled back to glance at Kurt. And it was unbelievable. The guy they all –except from Kurt- considered straight, was standing next to him, his arm loosely linked with Kurt's and dopily staring down at them.

''Well _fuck me_…'' Santana started off in a volume so that only Brittany could hear, but Brittany poked her thigh under the table to cut her off.

''Let's go,'' Brittany stood up and, more or less, demanding Santana to follow her by grabbing her hand tightly and dragging her along the club, towards the exit. It was Kurt's night and if he wanted to leave, they would.

''It's not fair,'' Santana hissed in Brittany's ear. ''Why do we also have to leave if Hummel wants to follow his dick? _I wants to stay_.''

Brittany ignored her and followed her friends towards the exit, where two cabs were already waiting for them. After a long drive, which was probably that long because Santana started the discussion about Kurt again, they finally reached their apartment. Brittany was glad she didn't follow the discussion in the cab, but the only reason for that was a clammy hand. The clammy hand that, in the backseat, which was shrouded by darkness, didn't even once let go of her hand during the long cab ride.

''I'm so drunk,'' Puck jabbered, stumbling out of the cab and heavily leaning with his muscular upper body on Lana's back, almost causing the poor girl to sink through her knees. ''I'd probably be too drunk to take a shit.''

''_Wow_, Puck,'' Santana taunted right beside Brittany's ear. ''I've gots to say: from all the pickup lines I've witnessed you using on girls, this one was _by far_ the grossest. Congratulations.''

''Soo…,'' Brittany blocked their front door so Santana couldn't follow Rachel and Finn. ''This is where I get off…''

From the entrance hall downstairs sounded laughter, followed by giggling and whispers which echoed through the entire stair well. It would only be a matter of time for Puck and Lana to be upstairs. Brittany figured it was best if she locked their door well this night, before Marcela could break into their house again because they made too much noise.

''_Oh_,'' Santana pouted, her feet moving awkwardly, playing along.

Brittany smiled and grabbed Santana's hand. ''I guess I can give you a short tour though, if my roommates don't mind.''

''I think they won't mind,'' Brittany heard Santana grinning into the words as she pulled the tottering girl along her.

''Living room,'' Brittany paused and gestured around the room, where Rachel and Finn had snuggled into each other on the couch.

''_Right_,'' Santana nodded slowly, not managing to restrain herself from pulling up her nose at the two on the couch, ''let's go.''

Brittany briefly mentioned the kitchen on the go before she reached her bedroom.

''Master bedroom,'' Brittany casually slumped down onto her bed, smiling at Santana.

''Nice… taste in carpets,'' Santana pointed out, grinning widely, before she pulled her top over her head and pushed Brittany onto the bed to top her.

/

''San,'' Brittany softly patted the Latina's hair to wake her up. ''It's seven AM, you're going to miss your flight.''

A soft groan escaped from the other girl's mouth as she turned around and buried her face into her pillow to continue her nap.

''_Santana_,'' Brittany repeated, only louder this time, ''seven AM.''

Santana stopped moving and opened her eyes to glance at her phone, after a few seconds her facial expression quickly changing from drowsy to sheer terror.

''_Fuck_.''

The next few minutes passed within no time and consisted of Santana pulling herself together, quickly cramming toast into her mouth, and tossing the last few thing into her suitcase with Brittany hot on her heels in her bathrobe, trying to convince her roommate to let her drive but she wouldn't let her.

''No I'll drive Brittany, you drank way too much. Just go back to sleep.''

''_No_,'' Brittany stated. ''You can't drive either, I can like, smell the alcohol from across the other side of the room. I'll call you a cab.''

''Girls, I can drive,'' a voice came from their couch, causing Brittany to scare up. She almost forgot Puck also stayed for the night because he and Santana both had to leave early.

''No,'' Santana firmly responded, making her way to Rachel's bedroom. ''You can't because the taxi firm doesn't want to drive me anymore since I didn't pay them a few times. _Berry, wake up_,'' she pulled the curtains aside, causing both Rachel and Finn to wake up immediately. ''I need you to drive me to the airport because I'm not sober enough.''

''Cab,'' Rachel simply responded, snuggling back into Finn's arms.

''Rach, you know I can't call them, you were with me when Fahim got mad at me,'' Santana pulled down the sheets, ''_Pixel_,'' she turned to Finn, ''can you drive me?''

''_Pixel_?'' Brittany repeated in a confused tone of voice.

''Because his head is square like a pixel,'' Santana explained impatiently.

And, luckily for her, Pixel, AKA Finn, agreed on driving them since he was the most sober of them all. So, three quarters and a pissed-off, cursing Santana –because she claimed Finn drove like her grandma-, later Santana was finally on her plane and the peace was restored. Temporarily.

''So what are your plans for the next few days?'' Rachel informed lightly as they walked back to their car.

''I don't know,'' Brittany shrugged. She hadn't really thought about that yet. ''I guess I'm going to be pretty busy doing my school assignments and maybe I'll catch up with Lana. Why?''

''Oh, just wondering,'' Rachel also shrugged, taking a seat in the back of the car. ''You seem to be spending a lot of time with Santana, so I was just curious since she's away for a few days.''

Brittany glanced at the rear-view mirror to see Finn's and Puck's reactions, but seen their concentrated facial expressions, they were too busy minding the road and being hangover.

''Okay, what do you mean?'' Brittany whispered in a tone only Rachel would be able to hear.

Rachel's face brightened, as it always did when she knew she was up to something.

''Oh my God,'' Rachel exclaimed, enthusiastically clapping her hands like a five-year-old, ''I knew it. _I knew it_. You can't hide anything from me, you know that.''

''_Shh_,'' Brittany hissed in an attempt to not let everyone in the car participate in the conversation, but of course Rachel didn't get her subtlety and before Brittany could hold her back, Rachel had already turned around to pat Finn's shoulder.

''Finn, we were right,'' the poor girl almost couldn't utter anything properly because of her excitement. Brittany sighed as she watched the going-on, leaning back into the seat. She was too late anyway.

''About what?'' Finn scowled at her trough the rear-view mirror, but in the short time Brittany had known him, she could exactly see if he was acting or not. It was a gift. And this time, he was acting, because if he was, he would always do this thing of scratching his temple and that was what he was doing right now.

''About Brittany and Santana,'' Rachel practically yelled in excitement. ''Something is definitely going on.''

''Well,'' Finn responded in his natural calm way, ''it would've been weird if there wasn't anything going on because then I'd really wonder what those noises last night were.''

''Yeah, _holy shit_,'' Puck joined him, ''what happened?''

Brittany covered her eyes with her hands, desperately wishing she'd had Santana's genes of being able to not turn red.

''Ahh, she's turning red,'' Rachel made the situation even worse by pointing it out. ''I think the two of you make a cute couple.''

''We're not. A couple.''

''Why don't you ask her out?'' Finn suggested from behind his wheel, completely ignoring Brittany's comment. ''I don't think she's going to catch any subtle hints.''

''Yes Brittany,'' Rachel agreed with him, ''ask her out.''

Brittany glanced at their excited faces. She wasn't really the type to ask someone out. Until now, she had always been the person that got asked out and to be honest, that was just fine.

''I don't know,'' Brittany shrugged. ''I'm not really the type to ask persons out.''

''_Like she is_,'' Rachel pointed out, and she had a fair point. Brittany also didn't see Santana as a person to put herself in that position.

''I… _I don't know_,'' Brittany muttered again.


End file.
